The Hunters Curse
by OLDTHINGSNEWTHINGS
Summary: I am well aware of the cost of my lifestyle. Family, friends, life, and limb; all of it is put on the line during every hunt. This fact only pushes me to hunt harder, and kill more efficiently. Nothing could have prepared me for my new companions, or the peril that is involved with being close to the Winchesters, but I wouldn't trade them for anything in this god forsaken world.
1. New Weapon, New Friends

"Fuck. FUCK FUCK **FUCK**."

This lock is making a damn fool of me.

It probably has something to do with the fact that I am pretty sure I am being watched, which is a somewhat distracting.

I heave a frustrated sigh, and turn my attention back on the lock. Suddenly I feel something brush the back of my head.

My first panicked thought is '_spider_!', which causes me to smack myself in the back of the head pretty hard.

As soon as my fingers brush the cold metal, I know that I am mistaken.

"_Well, Shit_", I mumble under my breath, as I turn to face my assailant.

I am _not_ pleased with what I see. The barrel of a Smith & Wesson revolver is pointed right at my face.

My eyes run up the arm of my attacker, to his face.

"I'm sorry... _Officer_, is it?" I look at his crisp suit skeptically.

"Agent" he replies in a steely tone.

"Pardon me '_Agent_'", I reply just as icily. "I didn't _realize_ that breaking and entering was punishable by death" I nod toward his pistol.

"_Excuse my partner,_" says a disembodied voice, coming from somewhere around the side of the house. "He gets a little ahead of himself sometimes."

"I see that!" I call out.

Suddenly the source of the voice walks around the house, and I raise my eyebrows. _Damn..._

My heart picks up its pace, and my stomach gets all weird and fluttery.

'_Seriously?'_ I think.

I am pretty disgusted with myself. I'd _like_ to think I am immune to this sort of thing.

Disembodied voice guy walks over and looks down at me. Way down.

_Jeeeeezus he is tall. _

"My name is Agent Morris, this is Agent Cain."

Agent Cain shoots a dirty look at Agent Morris for some unknown reason, and Agent Morris chuckles.

"You are breaking into a restricted crime scene. " says 'Agent Cain'.

"Ah, well I can see how that might seem... shady" I reply.

"Yeah, a _little_." He says sarcastically.

"I'm something of a freelance journalist" I lie "and this case caught my eye."

"Like I said, this crime scene is **CLOSED**. Now beat it before I take you in"

Agent Cain holsters his gun, while I stand up and dust off my jeans.

"Can I see your credentials _Agent_ Cain?" I request.

I can tell this takes him off guard, and that makes me pretty happy.

He pulls a out a badge and flashes it. I grab it out of his hand before he can put it up, which clearly makes him uncomfortable. It takes me maybe four seconds to see that his ID is fake.

"It's fake" I shove it into his chest with force. He doesn't back down though.

"I bet impersonating an FBI agent gets you more time then breaking and entering" I snap.

"I bet if I shoot you..."

"Agent Cain _stop_" Agent Morris, or whatever his name is, interrupts. "Why are you _really_ here?" He asks me.

I consider sticking to my story, but its pretty obvious that these lovely gents already know why I'm here.

_To Hunt._

"...Probably the same reason you are" I finally say. "This town is haunted. How did you get into hunting?" I ask.

"We were raised in it" replies 'Agent Morris'. "Im Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean."

"Not that this isn't fun," Dean scowls "but the big boys are here now, and we have this under control"

"Clearly" I point out. "Three deaths in two days, really '_seems_' like you've '_got_ _it_'"

"We're working on it" Sam says.

"Well so am I," I retort. "Look, no offense guys, but Im kind of busy."

I turn back toward the lock and get to work.

"Let me..." Sam starts to say.

Before he can finish his offer the lock pops open with a satisfying click. They look at each other with raised eyebrows, clearly impressed.

I smirk and let myself into the house.

My emf detector immediately spikes, and the air turns cold.

"Shit, he doesn't wait around" I say, snatching an iron poker from beside a fancy fireplace.

Within a millisecond I am face to face with what is left of Captain Mark Tolly: one seriously pissed off spirit. I maneuver my new weapon, pleased with its balance, before I slice through his misty image, and he disappears. The temperature returns to normal.

"I am sooo keeping this" I say, looking at the old poker with fondness.

I glance up to find disapproval on Sam's face.

"What? _They_ won't need it" I motion towards a painting above the fireplace.

It portrays a handsome man in a Navy Captains uniform, his arms are wrapped around a blonde bombshell. She is definitely the kind of girl I would have hated growing up. There was one in every high school.

Dean whistles a cat call."That explains the Captains jealousy"

"I don't know that his jealousy was necessarily unwarranted," I say. "Every single account I've come across says she slept around while he was deployed. "

"That didn't give him a right to try and kill her" Sam defends.

"I'm still not so sure that '_self defense_' wasn't a bogus claim. She seems like the type that would off him just so she could go back to servicing the whole town again" I say.

"Either way, she paid for her indiscretion. She was his spirit's first victim." Sam remarks.

"Yeah, then he moved on to every guy she '_serviced_' as you so delicately put it" Dean says.

"Not _every_ guy" I reply. "There's at least one left, a lot more than one probably, if the rumors are true. In fact, if this ghost isn't stopped, there may not be much of the town left. Anyway, the town gossip was so full of the details she was ready to bust. She couldn't wait to spill the juicy details of '_Jenny's last affair_'. It was supposed have happened the night before the Captain got home. It was with this bartender at the Parrot and Palm, Corbin Jacobs. Rumor has it that bar isn't safe to eat off of anymore."

"Well then we have to assume that he is the next target." Sam states grimly.

"To the Pigeon and Porch?" Dean grins.

"Parrot and Palm" Sam sighs.

"Great, lets go" I say cheerfully, excited to have some company.

"NOnononono" Dean says. "She is **NOT** coming"

"C'mon Dean, we can use all the help we can get, and she seems to know what she is doing."

"NO. No Sam. You know how I feel about collateral damage. People who help us get hurt."

"It's your call, Dean" he concedes.

"Ummm, no its not" I insert. "I know what I'm doing. Ive been hunting my whole life, and I was here FIRST. PLUS I gave you this lead. There is _NO WAY_ you're following it without me"

I charge past them, jumping into the back seat of what I really _hope_ is their car.

They exchange a dark look, and get into the car, which must be Deans, because he gets to pick the music.

As we drive along, I examine the brothers. Dean is kind of snarky... but not impossible to handle. He seems like he could be fun, when he isn't trying to shoot me. Not bad looking either. I study Sam next. It's not hard to believe they are brothers. He is also ridiculously handsome, gorgeous really... He seems more careful and level headed than Dean.

He turns back to say something to me, and our eyes meet. I turn twelve shades of red, and decide my lap is _super_ interesting the rest of the ride.

When we arrive at the Parrot and Palm, I head strait for the bar. Behind the counter, there stands a short, stalky man. I walk up and ask him if Corbin is around.

"Im Corbin" he says gruffly. I have to stifle a snicker. This guy really doesn't seem like the barbie dolls type.

Dean cuts in and flashes his badge, causing Corbin to stiffen like a board.

I examine myself in the huge mirror behind the bar while they talk. I am a mess. Especially compared to the brothers. My jeans are tattered and my tank top is covered in dirt. I need to make some time for shopping. My brown hair is everywhere, and I look like I haven't slept in weeks. I stare down at my worn out converses in shame, and listen to the conversation.

"I'm Agent Cain, and this is my partner, Agent Morris. We have some questions about Jennifer Tolley"

"Messy business," grunts the barkeep. "Lot of rumors"

"Its one of those rumors we are here to talk to you about, Mr. Jacobs. We think that the killer is targeting…Well for the lack of better words, Jennifer's lovers"

Corbins eyes widen, and he begins to look scared.

"Mr. Jacobs, we need to know if you had an affair with Jennifer" Dean states bluntly.

Corbin looks around wildly and motions us into the back room.

"Yeah," he says, "Jennifer and I had kind of a thing…just once though! I was drunk, and it just sort of happened! I swear I didn't kill her though!" he pleads.

"Well if you didn't then you may be the next target. We need to ask you a few questions." says Sam. "Have you noticed anything strange happening since the killings started? Electrical problems, or maybe cold spots?"

"No…Not that I can remember. Why?"

"Its nothing…Agent Cain is going to stay hear and keep an eye on you, while detective Cooper and I attempt to track down the suspect" Sam motions toward me.

"_I don't want to stay heeeere_," Dean whispers, which I assume doesn't reassure Corbin.

"We won't be long." Sam promises, as we head out the door.

...

"Detective Cooper, huh?" I remark.

"What?," Sam smiles, "I don't know your real name."

"Mackenzie."

We get in the Impala and head out.

While we are driving, Sam is quiet. After a few minutes he turns to me. "Who exactly are you?"

"I'm a hunter."

"Well, Where are you from?" he presses.

"Whats with the 20 questions," I ask, irritated.

"I just like to know who I'm riding with." he smiles.

"Fine," I say after a few minutes. I have no idea why I'm trusting this man, but here goes…

"My name is Mackenzie Tyler. Friends and family called me Mac. You can call me Mac, I guess. I'm from everywhere. I've never had a permanent home, my dad always moved us from place to place. Im a hunter. I was raised in a hunting family, and hunting is all I know. I graduated high school somehow, despite all the transferring. Tried college, but it didn't work out. Thats pretty much it. Im just… A hunter."

"You said your family '_called_' you Mac… past tense?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

"You're a hunter. You already know what that means." I reply. "Who do you have left besides your brother? Nobody I bet."

It is silent for several minutes after I finish.

Finally I say "Im sorry, that was unnecessary. My family is gone. Thats all I needed to say. Its just me now"

I think Sam can see the sadness on my face, and it seems to make him sad too. Or maybe he is thinking about all the people he has lost.

"Hunting is a dangerous business, Frodo" I say, which makes him chuckle.

"I _don't_ think thats the line" he laughs.

"Something like that" I shrug.

We pull up to the sherifs office, and Sam says to wait here. _Apparently_ I picked a bad day not to wear a stuffy pant suit.

Leaving me alone with my thoughts after this talk is maybe not the best idea. I lose track of time.

Suddenly the door swings open, which startles me. Sam must think its pretty funny because he has to stop laughing before he can tell me that Captain Tolley is buried in West Grove Cemetery, and we have to go desecrate his grave.

"_Super_" I say, which is probably not the right reaction to this particular crime. Most of my reactions are inappropriate. I blame my upbringing.

We head out to the cemetery, shovel, gas, and lighter all accounted for.

"_Whelp_, here goes nothing" I say.

"Yep" he sighs.

We get out of the Impala, and search for Captain Tollys grave.

After a few minutes, I hear a shovel digging methodically. Sam must have found the grave site. I start toward the noise. Suddenly, the temperature drops, and I can see my breath.

"Oh, thats never good" I say.

"What?" Sam replies, then continues digging.

"Ummmmm Sam?"

Before me, stands a fully formed Spector. He presses towards me, and I take a step back. I trip over a foot stone, and fall. Captain Tolleys ghost is directly over me now, his ice cold hand plunges into my chest.

The news articles flash before my eyes, "**Three dead, crushed hearts**", and I start to panic.

I reach behind me for my trusty iron poker but it is too far. I try to cry out but I cannot breathe.

Suddenly I hear a loud boom, and rock salt slashes through the ghostly form. I breathe, and fall back. Sam runs over to check on me. He lifts me up by my shoulders and looks into my face with concern.

"Don't worry about me" I manage. "The grave"

Sam grabs my hand and drags me to the grave with him. He keeps a careful eye on me while he finishes digging. I try to help, but he won't let me. Finally we make it to the coffin, and pry it open.

Embalming is creepy. The Captain has been dead for months, and he is still very much in tact.

As Sam pours the gas onto the body, Captain Tolleys Ghost makes one last effort to preserve his form. He comes at Sam this time, screaming and howling, but it is too late. The match is dropped and the Captains spirit is sent to the afterlife.

Sam and I both sigh in relief. "Lets go" he says, as he extends a helping hand to me.

I smile and brush it aside. "Im fine, really".

When we get back to the Parrot and Palm, Dean is cleaning up a huge mess. Upon questioning, it would appear that Captain Tolley had come for Corbin while we were researching and digging up the grave. Dean must be good at his job. Corbin is in the corner, unharmed, but clearly scarred for life.

My inappropriate reaction might have been to giggle if I weren't nursing a severely damaged ego myself.

I sit quietly as Sam and Dean have a drink and murmur to each other. I assume they are recounting their sides of the story.

Finally it is time for them to go. They stand up, and wish Corbin the best.

"Careful who you sleep with from now on, Corbin" Dean says. Corbin shakes his head up and down vigorously.

I stand by the door and wait.

Sam and Dean walk by me without saying a word, and my heart drops.

It was nice to be part of a team for a little while, and the prospect of being alone again is soul crushing.

God I hate being alone.

Sam stops suddenly just outside of the door and turns to me.

"You Comin'?"


	2. Damn Weeds

I open my eyes, and look around me.

For a minute, I forget where I am, and start to panic.

Then it comes back to me. My new friends, the ghost…the bunker….I 'm in my new home.

I look at the cinder walls with more joy than is probably warranted. It's just been so long since I've had a safe place to rest my head.

I bounce out of bed and get dressed. I sigh at my freshly washed clothes. Washed but still pretty tattered. Oh well.

"Excellent." I say, as I walk into the kitchen, and spot Dean frying bacon.

"Morning sunshine. How'd you sleep?" He asks.

"Like a rock" I reply.

"It's nice to have a safe place isn't it? You almost forget what a good nights sleep feels like."

"My thoughts exactly. Want any help?" I offer.

"I've got things pretty much sewn up in here, can you go wake sleeping beauty?"

"Sure thing"

I head down the corridor towards Sam's bedroom.

"Sam?" I knock loudly "Sam breakfast!"

No reply.

After a few more tries, I open the door. His bed is empty.

I dart back to the kitchen, almost sending Dean and his precious plate of eggs flying.

"Watch iiiit. I worked hard on these." he reprimands.

"Yes I know, you are the perfect little house wife" I reply. "Sleeping beauty is not in his bed. Anywhere else he could be?"

"Check the library" Dean suggests.

"M'kay"

I sprint toward where I _hope_ the library is. I've been here a few weeks, but this place still gets me turned around.

"_Ahhhh_, the gods are with me today." I sing as I enter the library.

"What?" says Sam from somewhere amongst a monumental stack of books.

"I found the library, all by myself." I say a little to proudly.

Sam laughs and stands up, "What's up Mac?"

It takes me a second to reply, as his shirtless torso is a bit distracting.

"Breakfast" I finally manage.

"Sweet. Be there in a few." Sam replies, and disappears back into the middle of his book fortress.

"How long have you been up?" I ask.

"Haven't been down." He replies.

"Good greif?! What are you looking for?"

"Nothing in particular, just, have you seen all these? The Men of Letters have an amazing collection. Its hard to put them down."

"Nerd" I tease, although he certainly doesn't look like a nerd. "C'mon, put the books down for a bit and join the party."

"Fine, fine, I'm coming" he says.

We amble toward the kitchen.

Sam starts to walk faster when he smells the bacon, and I chuckle.

"_Finally_!" Dean remarks. "What the hell took so long?"

"Oh, you know Sam and his books" I reply.

"Shut up you two." Sam retorts "Lets eat."

...

About half way through breakfast we hear a knock.

Dean and Sam get up and head toward the door, guns drawn, and I follow with my trusty poker.

Dean looks at me quizzically, "Ghosts don't knock..."

I roll my eyes "Just _answer_ the door."

Dean swings the door open, revealing a bedraggled man with brown tufty hair and a tattered tan trench coat.

"Cas!" Dean exclaims, "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Who's Cas?" I whisper to Sam.

"Castiel is part of the family" Sam whispers in my ear, which makes it hard to focus on what Cas and Dean are saying.

"Dean, Sam, I have a case for you."

"Great, whatcha got?" Dean replies cheerfully.

"Come in?" Sam offers.

"No time" declines Cas. "I have to be going. I just brought you this"

He hands a disappointed looking Dean a newspaper with a highlighted article.

"Ok, thanks for the tip" Dean says, and just like that Cas is gone.

"Let me see that" I take the paper out of Dean's hand.

The headline reads: '**TWELVE KILLED, DRAINED OF BLOOD AND SKINNED"**

Sam reads over my shoulder.

**"**Vampires? " He guesses.

"Maybe" I reply "But what is up with the no skin deal?"

"Maybe they sucked a little too hard." Dean grins wickedly.

"Shut up Dean" Sam and I say in unison.

"Well, lets go." I say, picking up my emergency duffle from beside the door.

We jam to a cassette of Metallica on the way to the police station. It's a long drive, but it doesn't seem like it.

We laugh and joke, and even though we are on the way to investigate grisly murders, I feel happy.

When we arrive Dean and Sam put on their game faces and head into the sheriffs station, while I take my laptop and go to the donut shop across the street. A "FREE WI-FI" sign hangs in the window.

I walk to a window seat and begin my investigation. I'd never before heard of a Vampire stripping skin, and I've heard a lot.

As I research, I people watch. In such a small town it's not hard to do both. A young couple holding hands, an old woman standing at a bus stop, a group of children on their way home from school.

No one looks suspicious. Of course people _rarely_ look like killers, until they kill you.

I focus more closely on my laptop, and lose track of time.

I jump as Sam drops his bag on the table next to me, which makes Dean laugh.

"Oh hey, what did you find out?" I ask.

"Well in addition to the blood loss and skin missing, there are scorch marks all over the crime scenes." Sam replies, "It makes no sense. I've never seen a list of signs like this."

"Wait, scorch marks?" I begin to type feverishly, and pull up an article from the Dominican that I had read earlier. "It's a soucouyant! Every sign points to it!"

Sam takes the laptop out of my hands and reads the article. "These things are supposed to be in places like the Dominican Republic and Haiti, what would one be doing in Louisiana?"

"My guess would be immigration." Dean says.

"I'll have to pull up the immigration records." Sam says, as he pulls out his laptop. "You wouldn't believe how helpful the internet can be with things like this."

I take my laptop back and continue my research. This was a nasty monster.

"A soucouyant is a hag, who lives at the edge of a village." I read, "She uses dark magic to shed her skin at night and travel as a fireball creature, which explains the scorch marks. She travels through cracks and crevices in a house, and she feeds on her victim's blood. Then she takes their skin to add to her creepy collection. '_Yech'."_

"Ok, so we have 12 different descendants of immigrants from the tropical islands where the soucouyant legend originates from." Sam says. "Upon further research, I've narrowed it down to two women who fit the '_Hag_' profile."

"Can you get their addresses?" I ask. "The lore says that the soucouyant likes to live on the edge of the town."

"Here we go" Sam replies, "Hatty Moore. The family had their name changed when they immigrated, and she is a third generation from the Dominican."

I begin to research everything about Hatty Moore. I come across a news article that details the tragic demise of Hatty's parents, which led to her being raised by her grandmother, the immigrant. I read the article out loud to the brothers, and we all agree, this is our best bet.

"Does your article say how to kill a soucouyant?" Dean asks.

"Yeah. One of us has to lure her fireball form to the crossroads of the town. We need to pour out rice in the crossroads. Legend says she is obligated to pick up every piece. While she is busy we have to sneak into her house. She is supposed to leave her skin in a mortar. We need to fill it with rock salt and burn it. When she returns to find her skin destroyed she perishes. The article says that she only turns into the fireball shape once every thirteen years, and takes thirteen victims. Hatty moved here thirteen years ago. This will be our last chance. I think she will move again after tonight."

Sam and Dean agree, and we head to the hotel to catch some sleep before tonight.

...

I wake up at six and head to the stop and shop. I pick up three bags of rice, and a box of rock salt. I look at my haul, and decide to buy a few more things, so that it doesn't look suspicious. I have no idea how smart soucouyants are.

I stop on the way back, and pick up dinner for the boys.

When I get back to the hotel, Sam is up and putting on his shirt. I clear my throat to alert him of my presence.

"Dinner," I whisper, as Dean is still sleeping.

"Thanks" Sam replies, as he takes a salad out of my hands. He hesitates and looks down at me.

"You know," He says, "I really am glad you are hunting with us."

"Me too. I'm glad I'm not alone anymore." I reply.

"You never have to worry about that again," He promises.

A warm feeling bubbles up in my stomach as I look up at him.

He starts to say something else, but Dean interrupts. He walks in the room, hair tousled and eyes only half open.

"Do I smell burgers?" He asks.

I smile and hand him a fast food bag.

"Eat up," I say. "We have work to do."

...

We leave at seven thirty, and reach the address by dark.

The weeds we are hiding in scratch at my arms, and the mosquitoes bite my neck.

"Hurry _up_ already" I whisper.

Suddenly I see a light flicker through the dirty window.

"Guys" I warn.

Sam and I stand up and move into the road.

An orange light seeps through the cracks, and takes form outside the door. Not a fireball per se.

She looks more like some strange fire goddess.

"HEY!" Sam shouts to attract her attention, as he starts up the Impala.

We jump in as the soucouyant starts toward us. I see Dean sneak out of the weeds and toward the shack.

"HIT IT!" I shout.

_Damn_ she is fast.

We drive toward the crossroads at top speed, and she keeps up. She puts her hand on the rear window, scorching the glass.

"Sam faster!" I shout.

"It's topped out, we're almost there!" he replies.

We skid into the crossroads just in time. I toss Sam a bag of rice, and rip mine open, flinging it as hard as possible. Rice flies far and wide, and the soucouyant screeches. Sam pours his bag out and we get back in the Impala. I look back to see her picking up the rice, which she is now obligated to do until daybreak. That gives us plenty of time.

Sam and I get back to the shack, and I pour one more bag of rice on the porch, just in case she has been practicing her rice retrieval skills, and is super fast at it.

"Did you find it?" Sam says, as we walk through the door.

"Its not as easy as you might think." Dean scowls. He gestures to a wall full of mortars. Each mortar contains a different skin, and all the mortars are all identical.

"Seriously?!" I groan. "We will be here all night!"

"Lets get started" Sam says.

We begin burning skins. The stench is overwhelming, and the task is time consuming.

The last skin smolders to ash as the sun breaks the horizon.

"Lets go!" Sam says.

I follow them back into the weeds to wait. A smoke trail signifies the return of the soucouyant.

It does not take long for the creature to realize her skin is gone. An unearthly wail rings out, and the shack bursts into a bright blue flame.

I heave a sigh of relief.

"Lets go home" I say.

...

It's been a few days since we destroyed the soucouyant.

I sit on my bed cross-legged, mumbling under my breath.

"**_Damn weeds_**," I say as I dig at my arm.

"Stop scratching" Sam says.

I look up to see him standing in the doorway grinning.

"We were in the same damn weeds, how the hell did I get poison ivy, and you don't have a single hive." I grouch.

"Don't be hateful, I brought you calamine." He says, holding out a pink bottle.

I jump out of my bed and snatch the bottle from his hand. It feels so soothing on my arms.

"_This is it_," I say, as I flop back on my bed. "I have fought a thousand monsters, and shall be defeated by a weed."

"I think you'll live" he replies.

"Nope."

"Try to get some sleep. You'll fell better soon."

He walks over to my bed and kisses me on the forehead. My stomach jumps into my throat.

"Good night" I say.

"Good night, Macenzie"


	3. Mormo is a Psycho

"Why can't I comeeee?" I whine, trailing after Dean as he picks up things and shoves them into a tattered duffel bag.

"Because you're all itchy and useless right now, Mac." He responds for about the thousandth time.

I give up and flop down in a giant leather chair to pout, as he continues to pack.

I reach up to scratch my cheek, but I feel a hand grab my sleeved wrist from behind. Sam leans over my shoulder. "No scratching."

"Ugh no scratching, no hunting, no eating Deans pudding. There are too many rules in this bunker." I joke.

"You'll live" he laughs.

I sit on the front stoop of the bunker forlornly, and watch the Impala fade out of sight.

...

The next two days are filled with update calls and information requests from Sam and Dean. They are hunting an especially tricky ghoul, and it's taking a while. My poison ivy finally clears up, and I make myself useful straitening up the bunker. When I am finished, I flop down on the couch and turn on the TV. I flip through the news channels out of habit, looking for a lead.

A story catches my eye and I put the remote down. A blonde woman is on TV, reporting a serial killer in Aspen, Colorado.

Some sicko is killing children, and mutilating their corpses. The further into the story she gets, the more certain I am: This is a hunt, and I can't waste any time.

I jump off the couch, grab my bag, and head out.

Once I arrive, I lock up my trusty Dodge Charger, and check into a hotel.

As soon as I reach my room, my phone buzzes.

"Hello?" I say.

"Mac? We just got back to the bunker, where the hell are you?" Dean demands.

"Calm down, I'm in Aspen." I give Dean the details of the hunt. "It's a simple witch-hunt. No big deal." I finish.

"Look, Mac, this thing sounds bad." I hear Sam say in the background. "Dean and I are coming. Just wait for us. Please."

"Oh my god guys. I've hunted on my own for two years. I can handle this."

"Please Mackenzie. Please wait." He pleads.

"Ok Sam" I finally agree, although it seriously hurts my pride to play the damsel in distress. "I'll wait."

...

"Oughhhhh" I moan. "What the hell?"

I blink hard. Everything is so bright, and my mouth is dry. My eyes finally focus on a concerned Sam and Dean leaning over me.

"Oh damn," I ask, "Am I a vampire?"

"No" Sam says "You've just been out of it for a couple days. You're in the hospital."

"Welcome back to the living you stubborn ass," Dean says. He looks pretty pissed, and I struggle to remember why.

"What happened?" I ask.

"You didn't wait for us." Sam says. "Why?"

"Oh." I say, as it all comes flooding back. "Sam I did try to wait, I swear! I was minding my own business getting a snack from the machine. One of the doors I walked past, I heard something. So I knocked and I hear a kid yell. I kicked the door in. There was a vampire! She had one of the kids by the hair and I just lost it. I didn't have anything but a bag of peanuts but I went in after her. That's the last thing I remember. Except... Dean can you hand me my laptop?"

Dean obliges, he no longer seems angry, which I'm grateful for.

I begin to type frantically.

Finally I find what I'm looking for, and hold it up. "This mark," I say, "it's the mark of Hecate. It was burned into the vampires arm. I don't think we are dealing with a normal vampire. I think this is Mormo."

"Whats a Mormo?" Dean asks.

"Not _**A**_ Mormo, _**THE**_ Mormo. I thought she was just a myth."

"I've never even heard of her." Dean says.

"It stems from ancient Greek mythology. Mormo was thought to be a demon that preys on the flesh of bad children, a servant of Hecate. It was supposed to be just an old wives tale, something to scare the kids into being good. When I originally saw the news story of the kids disappearing, and the mutilated bodies the police found, I thought that this was probably a sacrificial ritual deal. I figured it was a coven, or maybe a demon, snatching kids. But after this…. it has to be Mormo. And she is ancient. Which means she is strong."

Dean takes the local paper from my nightstand and studies the faces of the latest missing children. "We need to off this sick bitch."

"Wait, how am I not dead?" I ask them. "The last thing I remember, she was about to take a bite out of my throat!"

"You would be if we hadn't made it when we did." Sam replies "We saw your car parked outside this hotel on the way into town. We made it just in time. I shot her right in the heart with a wooden bullet, which stopped her cold but didn't end her. She took off like a bat out of hell, and we got you the _hell_ out of there."

"Well thanks for that," I say.

"Whatever. Just don't do that again. You are family now, and we are responsible for you. I'm not losing anyone else." Dean growls.

"I'm sorry. Really. It won't happen again."

"The Children?" I ask.

"We called an ambulance before we left, but they both were ok." Sam says.

"Whelp, I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving." Dean interjects. "I'm going to get a burger. Comin' Sam?"

"Nah you go ahead, I'm good." Sam replies.

"K. You two find a way to kill this bitch. I'll be back."

After Dean leaves, it is silent for a while. I research studiously, and Sam flips through his father's journal.

"You really scared me Mac." Sam suddenly says. "When we came into that room, I thought you were dead. You were out cold."

"I'm really sorry Sam. I didn't think. I just-" He stands up suddenly interrupting me.

"Don't apologize. I know you were doing what you had to. I'm just….I'm glad you're ok. Don't leave us again, ok?"

"I won't. Cross my heart"

"Good" he smiles and sits down on the side of my bed.

We are silent for a moment, and then something changes.

He leans forward and takes my face in his hands. The butterflies in my stomach go haywire, as he leans in.

Then he kisses me, and it is marvelous. I lean forward, temporarily forgetting my injuries.

"OWwwwwW!" I yelp, and fall back.

"Oh shit! Sorry! I'm sorry! Oh god!" Sam gasps.

"NO! No it's fine! Really, really fine." I reply. "Really"

Sam grins stupidly, and I'm positive I look just as awkward.

He stands up and walks to the top of the bed. He leans over and kisses me again. It's painless this time, and it is amazing.

He pulls a wooden chair next to my bed, and continues researching.

I'm to distracted to research, so I lay back and close my eyes. I open them once, and look over once to find Sam watching me. The warm feeling in my stomach grows.

After a few minutes, I hear Dean come back in. I think he can sense a difference, and I catch him wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Sam rolls his eyes.

"I think I found something." Sam says. "It's sick though. You…you have to grind up the…the teeth of one of her victims, and mix it into a potion with lambs blood and holy water. Then you coat a stake in the potion. The most recent victim is buried in the North Bend Baptist Church's graveyard."

"Lets do this." Dean says.

...

It doesn't take long for Sam and Dean to get the ingredients for the potion, and soon they are ready to hunt. They each have a stake soaked in the potion and a gun with wooden bullets. I watch them walk out the door wistfully, wishing I could come along.

I settle in for a long night of waiting and worrying.

As I start to drift off I hear the door to my room creak open. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. Something isn't right; there is no way they are back yet. I reach for my knife and struggle to sit up. I look over to the chair, where my bag is now propped up. The remaining potion is safely bottled up and tucked inside. I unhook my IV and lean forward, my ears straining.

"You will pay," says a sickly sweet voice. "You should have let me be. Now you _will_ pay."

Mormo walks around my curtain and toward my bed. My heart beats fast. I hit one on my speed dial, and my phone rings out to Sam. "Mac?" I hear him say on the other line. "Mac are you ok? Dean, something's not right. Turn around, go back!" I hear the tires of the Impala screech as Dean whips around.

I hear everything, I see everything, the adrenaline courses through my body and I am hyper focused.

"They can't save you dear," Mormo hisses. "No-one can now."

She grabs my throat and slings me into the chair. I don't feel anything, although the chair explodes with the force of the heave, sending wood fragments everywhere. I see the potion seeping through my bag, the glass bottle broken.

I move quickly, grabbing a sharp leg fragment from the chair, and running it through the puddle of potion.

She presses down on me, fangs bared. I calculate her every move, seeing red. She grabs at my head, exposing her chest to me.

"Wrong move bitch!" I shout, and heave the stake deep into her heart.

Electricity crackles and booms, throwing me against the wall. I barely cling to consciousness, as I watch her wicked form fade to ashes.

Then the adrenaline fades, and it all goes dark.

I awaken to the sound of Sam screaming my name.

"Mac! Mackenzie! Stay with me! I know you are strong. You can handle this! You're going to be ok! Just…." His voice breaks "Just stay with me please!"

I try to open my eyes but it is too hard. I hear Dean screaming for a nurse in the hall. Sam holds me close.

"Sir! Please move away sir!" a female voice says.

Now I am being lifted onto a cot and wheeled away. I want to shout for Sam to follow, but I cannot. I fade out again.

...

When I awaken this time, I hear a steady beeping. I open my eyes, and attempt to take in my surroundings. I look toward a window and see that it is sunrise. My eyes drift to a plastic covered couch at the end of the room, where Dean is sleeping soundly. Finally I see Sam. He is in a chair, his head resting on my bed close to my side. I lift my hand and stroke his hair gently. He starts at this and sits up strait.

"You're awake!" he whispers. "How long have you been up? Why didn't you wake me?"

"I just woke up. I'm ok." I reply.

"Mac I'm so sorry. So, so, sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone. We should have seen this coming. I should-"

"Sam," I interrupt "It's ok. I am ok. And you are. And Dean is. That's what matters. When can we go home?"

"As soon as you are better."

"How long will that be?" I wonder.

"You are bruised up, and you lost too much blood. But other than your ribs there are no major injuries. It shouldn't be too much longer. We can go home soon." He assures me.

"Breakfast" Dean mumbles, and falls off the couch.

I laugh, which hurts like hell, but it also feels really good.


	4. High Heels Suck

"I look ri-_goddamn_-diculous."

I stand in front of a full-length mirror in our hotel room, scowling. The ludicrous red dress and six inch heels combo I am wearing make me feel like a mix between a giraffe and a cow. It's so tight I'm afraid to breath out.

"You look _incredible_!" Sam disagrees, as he spins me around.

"Seriously Mac, _you look hot._" Dean chimes in from his seat by the window.

"Don't sound so shocked Dean" I glare. "Remind me _why_ I have to wear this ludicrous outfit you picked out again?"

"Because _you_ are the **bait**." He points out.

"That incubus _will_ pay for this." I promise.

Sam laughs.

"Seriously, I want to shred this thing" I gesture to the dress hatefully.

"Me too" Sam jokes, which makes me turn as red as the dress.

Dean makes an exaggerated vomiting noise, and I throw my clutch at him.

"Dick" I say.

"Ass" he retorts.

"Play nice you two" Sam intervenes, as he picks me up around my waste like a football, and sits me down on the bed.

"Focus" he commands.

"Ok, I'm focused." I promise.

"Now, we know this incubus likes to pick up his victims at a local bar-"

"The Blue Moon" I insert.

"-yes. And we know he has picked up two girls there so far. Thanks to his carelessness, one of them survived to tell the story. The only thing she remembers, however, is a snake tattoo."

"So this should be simple." Dean adds, "We send in Mac. He leaves with her. We wait outside and tail him to whatever secluded place he takes her, and BAM, we decapitate the son of a bitch."

"And what makes you think he will pick me?" I ask.

"Well it would be pretty damn hard for him not to." Sam grins.

"Meh." I reply.

...

Although the bar is right across the street from our hotel, it takes me what seems like a thousand years to get there.

"I _hate_ heels," I mumble as I walk in the door. I squeeze my clutch and feel the reassuring shape of a syringe of dead mans blood.

I glide up to the bar, putting all my energy and attention into not falling. '_This incubus will definitely think I'm sexy if he see's me making my stupid concentrating face._' I think sarcastically.

When I finally reach the bar, I order a Bloody Mary.

Ironic.

As I sit and sip my drink, a few different men approach me, and I have to admit that is a confidence booster, but still no snake tattoo.

"Buy you a drink?" I hear a voice behind me. I turn to face the voice, and I have to work hard not to look alarmed.

It's definitely the incubus.

I look down at the snake tattoo that curls up his arm, and try not to swallow my tongue.

"_Absolutely_" I say, and attempt my most charming smile.

"My name is Ian," he says. "And what do I have the pleasure of calling you?"

"Mac…kenzie." I say, struggling not to let the idiot tomboy in me seep out.

As he tries to charm me, it's easy to see how he gets women to follow him out the door. His stories are captivating and funny, and he is a perfect gentleman.

But I know better.

As the night drags on our conversation becomes more intimate and he gets bolder with his innuendos.

I play along flawlessly.

"So do you want get out of here gorgeous?" He finally says.

"I do," I reply. "Just let me run to the bathroom and freshen up, then we can leave."

"I will await your return with bated breath" he flirts.

I turn toward the bathroom and roll my eyes.

When I reach the washroom I go into a stall and dial my cell. "He found me Sam," I say. "He wants me to leave with him."

"Go," he replies. "We'll be right behind you. Be safe."

...

When I return to the bar Ian has disappeared.

"What did you do, propose marriage?" Says a man behind the bar.

"What?" I say, confused.

"That's the only thing I can think of that would make a man run out on a fine ass like yours."

I throw my Bloody Mary in the bar tenders face and walk toward the door.

I _sure as hell_ didn't propose, and that can only mean one thing.

He knows.

...

As I step outside, I see a blue mustang peeling out of the lot.

I stare after it for a moment, and then walk toward where the Impala sits ready. As soon as I reach it, however, I know something is wrong. The back window is shattered.

I fling open the door, and the seats are empty.

I leave my heels in the street, and run to the hotel room.

The door is splintered open.

"Sam! Dean!" I scream.

I hear a groan around the side of the bed, and run over to kneel beside a broken looking Dean.

"What happened?!" I cry. "Where is Sam? Are you ok?"

"He took Sammy Mac. **He took Sammy**!"

I hear the words coming out of Deans mouth, but my mind won't process them. There is a ringing in my ears, and I feel sick.

"Are you ok?" I ask dean slowly.

"I think so, nothing feels broken."

"Then let's go." I say, my voice shaking.

I grab my duffel and climb in the passenger seat.

"He went that way!" I shout and point.

The tires squeal as we jump out of the parking space.

The Impala flies up the only road out if town, and I attempt to remain calm.

Soon we come up on a crossroad, and Dean stops.

"He could be anywhere by now!" I cry.

My phone rings, and I struggle to answer it with trembling fingers.

"S-sam?" I breathe.

"Not quite darling" says Ian.

I put the phone on speaker.

"You _listen_ to me you bastard," I say, my voice filled with hate, "if you touch one hair on his head, I will pump your ass so full of dead mans blood that your eyeballs pop out. I will-"

"Calm down my sweet" Ian interrupts. "Your friend is doing just fine, for now. If you want him to live, you'll obey me."

Dean revs the Impala's engine angrily.

"I knew hunters would come." He continues, "Letting that girl live was no accident. And while I must say, I did not expect the hunter to be so exquisitely beautiful, I can still tell a pursuer when I see one, and they are my _favorite_ _prey_."

"Listen asshole-"

"No you listen!" he shouts. "I'm calling the shots here. You will follow my exact instructions, if you want Sammy to survive. I don't want Sam. _I want you._"

"You want her, you go through ME!" Dean shouts.

"Ah, but if you tag along, who will save poor Sam?" Ian queries. "He only has another half hour left, at most, unless he can live without oxygen."

Deans fist tightens on the steering wheel, and I know he is going to lose it.

"What do you _want_ Ian?" I ask.

"I want you to come alone to the crossroad-"

"Cliché." I interrupt.

"Tell Dean to drive back toward the hotel," He continues, "and drop you off a half mile from the crossroads. Leave your phone with him, and walk here. WHEN you arrive, alone and unarmed, I will tell big brother where little brother is."

The call disconnects.

"No way" Dean says fervently.

"We have no choice"

"NO"

"I can handle myself"

"**NO**"

"Sam will die."

...

Five minutes later, a reluctant Dean drops me off a half mile from the intersection.

I know what is coming. I know what an incubus does. My mind flashes back to the body of the young girl he raped, and then drained of blood.

As I approach, I see Ian waiting outside the open door of his mustang.

If this were a romance, he would be the handsome lead, waiting at the crossroads for his true love.

But this is a horror story, and I am the victim.

I inhale deeply and put on my most indifferent face.

"I am here. Call Dean, tell him where Sam is."

"Not yet sweetheart. The deal was alone **and** unarmed."

He frisks me slowly, running his hands along my curves. I swallow the bile that rises in my throat.

"I see you have complied." He remarks. Then he grabs my arm and forces me into the trunk of the car.

"Call Dean" I demand.

"I will love. Be patient."

The trunk slams.

...

We only drive for a few minutes, but we could have gone in any one four ways.

I see the ingenious of the crossroads now.

The trunk opens, and Ian pulls me out by my hair.

I refuse to cry out, and he throws me down. We are in what looks like a storage unit.

I see no way out.

"Stand up" Ian demands, as he picks up Sam's phone and dials "We are going to play a little game. It's called 'For each piece of clothing you remove, I give a piece of the directions to Sam's whereabouts to Dean.'"

"You _sick_ son of a bitch" I hear Dean say in the background.

"The title is a little wordy, but I'll bite." I say sarcastically.

I look him in the eye and slide my underwear out from under my dress.

He gets off on fear, and I sure as hell won't give him the pleasure of seeing me scared.

He looks at me and licks his lips, then says into the phone, "Go to the Crossroads, Dean."

"Lets move on." I say.

I expertly remove my bra from under my dress, and drop it on the ground.

"I _never_ understood how girls could do that so well" He smiles darkley.

"Turn left, and go one mile. You will see a shed. Inside the shed there is a safe" He says into the phone.

"Next" I say, and reach for my left earring.

In the blink of an eye he is two inches from my face.

"You are wasting time Mackenzie. Precious Sam will run out of air and die because of your little game."

"Have it your way" I respond, undaunted. "Just trying to preserve the mystery. Unzip me?" I turn and pull my hair to the front, exposing my zipper.

"You are taking all the fun out of this." He sighs.

Ian begins to unzip me. As the zipper lowers and the top of my dress falls, the precious syringe of dead mans blood falls from between my breasts and into my hand. I turn and move my arms behind my back simultaneously, as the dress falls to the floor. He stands and observes me for a moment, before lifting the phone; "The combination is 04L-12R-24L-03R. Goodbye."

"Wait-" I hear Dean say as the phone clicks.

Ian advances toward me and grins wickedly.

I let myself look scared for a moment, but as he reaches out to touch me, I mirror his malicious smile.

"You know," I chuckle, "you _suck_ at frisking."

I stab him in the arm, and watch as he falls to the ground.

It was a small syringe, and I do not have time to waste. I grab Sam's cell off the floor, and slide on my dress. The door is padlocked, and I am going nowhere near Ian to get the key.

I look at his mustang and smirk.

The door of the storage unit flies off the roof of the car, scratching the shiny blue paint.

**Awesome**.

I fly, driving faster than I ever have. I sort of regret scratching the paint, because I'm thinking I may keep this beast.

I pull out Sam's cell and dial my phone.

"IF YOU HURT HER-" I hear Sam answer, his voice quivering with rage.

Tears of relief flow down my face, "S-sam." I sob.

"Mac! Mackenzie are you ok?! We are coming, where are you?"

"I escaped, I'm headed back toward you! I just turned at the cross-" **BOOM**.

I look out the window of the suddenly overturned car, dazed.

I see a pair of loafers walking toward me; I see the tires and lower half of a black Sedan, and then I see Ian's face, as he leans down to look in.

"Look what you made me do." He says in a deadly calm voice. "I really liked this car. You're lucky I found a back up. Don't worry, the owner doesn't need it anymore."

Ian reaches in and rips off my seatbelt, and I fall to the roof of the car. He drags me through the glass fragments and out the window by my hair. Then he pulls me up to his face.

"I have had _quite_ enough of you" He sneers. "You are far more trouble than you are worth."

Then I hear it, the most glorious sound in the world. It's the Impala's engine roaring, her tires screeching as Dean applies the emergency breaks. Before the car comes to a stop, Sam opens the back drivers side door and slingshots out.

I hear four gunshots, and see a perfect grouping of bullets penetrate Ian's chest. Sam holsters his gun and snags me as Ian falls to the ground.

Dean reaches us, and kneels down by Ian's thrashing body. He grabs Ian's hair and pulls his head back. "You look at me you son of a bitch. You deserve a far worse death than this. I should shove this up your ass." he slices Ian's head off cleanly with his hunting knife.

Sam carries me to the car, while Dean drags Ian's lifeless corpse into the weeds to burn him.

He sits me down and I lean back against the Impala.

I feel numb. I don't know how to react.

He pulls my head to his chest, and I break down. I have never been the dependent type, and crying really isn't my thing; but with Sam holding me close, I feel like I can finally let my guard down.

"I love you," he whispers into my hair. "I do, and I am so sorry this happened."

"It's ok," I sob. "You're here now."

Hearing Sams admission of love takes me by surprise. I should feel overjoyed, but it only sharpens the pain that I feel at the thought that I almost lost him tonight.

"You shouldn't have gone to him Mac. I know why you did, but you shouldn't have."

"You're safe and that is what matters." I say.

"Agree to disagree" He replies.

"It's done." Dean says grimly, as he walks toward us."You ok Mac? Did he…"

"No" I answer the unasked question.

I explain what happened.

"I'm sorry. Do you need to go to the hospital? Those cuts don't look good."

"I'm ok Dean. I mean, I'm not ok, but I am."

"Want some Ice Cream?" He asks.

"Food really is your answer to everything isn't it?" I smile.

"Pretty much." He grins.

We get in the car and head toward home.

Sam sits in the back seat and holds me. I feel safe and warm.

The world drifts into darkness, and I sleep soundly.

...

I wake up as we pull into the bunker.

The sun is rising and my whole body aches. Sam lifts me out and carries me to my bedroom.

When we reach my room, he puts me down, and I turn around to allow him to unzip my tattered dress.

"_Please_ can we burn this thing?" I ask.

"Yes" he says. "We most definitely can"

He turns to leave so I can change, but I grab his hand. "Please don't leave me alone?"

"I will be right back." he promises, 'I'm just going to shower and change."

While he is gone, I take a hot shower and change into a tank top and cotton shorts.

Soon I hear a soft knock on the door.

"Come in." I say. " I have something really important to tell you."

"What is that?" he asks.

"I love you too, Sam."

His face is jubilant as he climbs onto the bed, and sits cross-legged in front of me. "Really?"

"Really really" I say, and then I lean forward to kiss him.

He groans crawls toward me, causing me to fall back onto the bed. He kisses base of my neck, and down my body.

I have trouble catching my breath as he continues downward.

"Oh my god, if I had known this is how you would react, I would have told you how I felt a long time ago," I gasp.

He comes back up and kisses me again, as I roll on top of him.

"Ditto" he smiles mischievously.


	5. Sam Meets the Family

"Dad!" I scream. He kneels before Lilith, blood pouring from his throat.

The scene shifts. I am standing in the center of a flattened town. Not one stone is left standing on another. I stare down at a mangled baby doll. "No" I weep. "NO!"

...

"Mac! Mackenzie, wake up! It's just a dream!"

Sam's voice pulls me out of my nightmare. He is holding me.

Immediately I feel better. I always feel better when Sam holds me.

"Happy anniversary," he says.

"What?" I ask.

"It's been one year since we worked our first case together."

"Oh! It has been!" I smile. "Best day of my life, how could I forget?"

"Let's get moving! Big day planned! We're all going to celebrate!" He shoves me out of bed into the floor. "Ass!" I say, throwing the pillow I dragged with me at him.

I get dressed and walk toward the kitchen, where I smell breakfast cooking.

"Mmmmm smells good-" I stop short.

The kitchen is filled with balloons, and Dean is cooking with a crooked party hat on his head.

"Happy Anniversary!" Dean picks me up and squeezes me. "We are gonna party hard!"

"Hell _Yeah_ we are!" I say.

Sam laughs at the spectacle, while Dean puts a Burger King crown on my head.

We sit down, and I look at my family. My wonderful adopted-brother, and amazing boyfriend, and I revel in the pure joy.

We spend the whole day together, and end the night at our favorite bar.

We dance and do terrible karaoke.

By the time we leave, Dean is wasted. Sam and I each take and arm and help him out to the Impala. We stop short, and I almost drop Dean.

There is a message on the windshield, written in what looks like blood.

"_Happy Anniversary, little Sister_"

I feel my legs grow weak, as we struggle to get Dean into the Impala. Then I climb in the passenger seat while Sam squirts windshield wiper fluid in an attempt to clear the windshield.

"What does the message mean Mac?" he asks.

"I have no clue."

We drive home in silence, and when we arrive we put Dean to bed.

Sam grabs my hand and leads me to the bedroom. I lay on his lap and read as he plays with my hair.

"Despite the strange ending," I say "This has been a wonderful day. Thank you."

...

In the morning Deans frantic knocking awakes us.

"Guys?! What happened last night? Why is there blood on Baby?! Oh god did we hit someone?"

I sit up, and realize that my cheeks are wet with tears. Sam looks at me in concern before he answers the door.

"We don't know Dean. Someone left a message for Mac in blood on the windshield." Sam relays the message that was left for me.

"Who would do that Mac?" Dean asks.

"I don't know." I reply.

"Why are you lying to us?" Sam asks.

"I'm not." I state my voice flat.

"If you say so" he concedes.

"Well...we have shopping to do. Let's geddup and go." Dean says, trying to lighten the mood.

On the way to the grocery store, Dean runs baby through a car wash. I watch sullenly as the blood runs off of the windshield.

I blink.

When my eyes open, I am back in the town from my nightmares, but it is still standing. I watch as the town is flattened. I feel nothing but rage.

The car bumps as it pulls out of the wash, bringing me back to the present.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam asks.

"About how tired I am," I reply.

I know my silence is hurting him, but my honesty would hurt him more.

...

We shop without incident, and head home with a car full of groceries. I help the boys put the groceries up, and then excuse myself to my room.

Sam and Dean look at each other worriedly, but do not stop me.

The door shuts behind me, and I lean against it. I slide down into the floor and sob silently into my knees.

I have been here a year, and it has been so wonderful.

But now Sam and Dean are in danger because of me.

I compose myself and stand up. I know what I have to do.

I pick up a duffel bag and pack only the belongings I came here with. I take my anti possession necklace Sam gave me off of my night stand and put it on.

Then I sit on my bed and wait for the bunker to go silent.

At midnight I sneak out the door and toward my old yellow charger. It's so loud. I know they will wake up when I start it, and I know they will wonder why I abandoned them. I struggle to hold in the sobs of despair.

I climb in and put the keys into the ignition.

"Goodbye" I whisper, and turn the key. My engine roars to life, and I peel out of the driveway. In my rearview I see a disheveled Sam run out of the door and into the driveway.

I watch him until I can no longer see him.

Then I drive fast, trying to outrun my pain and fear. Alone again.

My phone rings in the passenger seat and I see that it is Sam. I don't answer. Soon it beeps, voicemail.

I cry as I listen. "Mac, I don't know what you are running from, but please come home. We can protect you. I love you. Bye"

I drive faster. He is too good for the life my presence would bring. When I heard Lilith was dead, I thought I could be free, but I never will be.

Finally I reach my destination, and get out of the car. I am immediately greeted by a familiar voice.

"You found love, and now you are a danger."

I look at the old witch standing on the front porch of a run down cabin.

" Is it still locked?" I ask.

"For now" she says.

"I left him. He is safe. The world is safe."

"He will pursue you Mackenzie. To the ends of the earth."

I get back in the car and leave. I drive toward San Francisco I don't know anyone there. It will be safe. If Sam and Dean are following me, they won't expect me to go there.

I drive for an hour, and I begin to get drowsy. I pull over in a field to sleep.

The witch's words haunt me.

"To the ends of the earth"

"Then I'll fall off the edge." I say, and drift off to sleep.

...

I wake early in the morning. The whole world seems gray.

Suddenly I hear a knock. I sit up and look out of the window. Sam, Dean, and Cas stand outside my car door.

"No" I cry, "you can't be here! How can you be?! How did you find me?!"

Sam looks hurt as he opens the door. "Mac…. please."

"No! You have to go!" I scream.

"Tough. We aren't leaving you." Dean says.

"How did you find me?"

"Locator spell and a guardian angel." He replies.

"Hi Mackenzie." I hear Cas say.

"Guys please!"

"Noooop." Dean says. "We are staying right here until you tell us what you are so afraid of. Well, all of us but Cas. He has places to be."

Cas vanishes. "You wouldn't leave us stranded in a field would you? That would be mean."

I climb out of my car and hang my head. "Take the car. I'll walk."

Sam steps in front of me. He opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly the ground shakes. When the shaking stops, I hear a sickly sweet voice over Sam's shoulder.

"Little sister. "

Sam turns and stands beside me, taking my hand in his.

"Who are you?" He demands.

"How rude of me not to introduce myself." She smiles "My name is Lilin, daughter of Lilith. I am here to speak to my sister."

"Leave her alone bitch" Dean growls.

Sam pulls me halfway behind him.

"What do you want, Lilin?" I ask.

"I want you to leave this world of domestic bliss and lead mothers army like you were bred to do. She birthed you to be a servant of Lucifer, and then your father took you and ran. He raised you as a goody two shoes hunter. You had no idea of your capabilities. Then she caught up with him and made him pay. That is when your true powers were shown. You flattened that town. You didn't feel a thing did you, save hatred? Since then you had that witch help you lock your power away inside of you. Ever careful, ever human. Mother was so disappointed in you. You had such potential, and to throw it away." Lilin shakes her head "Leave this life. IT IS NOT WHO YOU ARE! JOIN ME! LEAD US!"

A legion of demons rises from the ground. Black cloud figures, all hissing and groaning "Lead us"

"Mac," Sam asks, "What is she talking about?"

I ignore his question, and direct my attention toward Lilin.

"I will _never_ be that again." I growl. "_NEVER_"

"I think you will," she says.

Suddenly we are surrounded by demons. Sam is pulled away from me and delivered to Lilin. Sam and Lilin disappear the cloud of Demons, and Dean and I are overcome. I feel the weight of demons on my back and on my arms, pushing me to my knees.

Then I hear Sam cry out in pain.

My eyes close.

When they open, my pupils have contracted to slits. I smile. The lock is broken.

Then the demons shed off of me like a cloak. I stand erect, still smiling. I will the demons to become solid forms. I look over and see Dean slicing, stabbing, fighting for his life.

"_Die_" I think.

Then the demons that press toward him burst into ashes. He looks at me, and I see fear in his face. I turn back toward Sam.

I part the demons like curtains. Ashes fall, and I walk through them. But for every demon I take down two take their place. I hear Sam call out my name.

I close my eyes. I feel power building in my body, and I release it. The shock wave leaves my body, and the legion falls. The sky rains ashes, and I can see Lilin and Sam.

I walk toward them slowly. She is frozen in place, and Sam backs away.

When I reach her, I stand inches from her face. "You should have let my powers sleep, Lilin. Now you will die."

"Excellent," She replies "Send me home to our mother, so I can tell her I have awoken the beast. She will be so prou-"

I shove my fist through her ribcage and grasp her heart.

"Die" I say. Her body bursts into ashes and mixes with the that of the other demons.

I turn toward Sam, but he moves back.

"Are you scared? Good. Now you see what I was afraid of. Myself. You cannot be near me. I cannot be trusted. I am a Hybrid. My father was human. My mother was Lilith. I believe you are familiar with her work. When my father learned her identity, he took me and ran. That is how we got into hunting to begin with. We were able to evade her for 23 years. And then, three years ago, she caught up with us. She killed my father, and unleashed my powers. I went to a witch doctor, she showed me how to lock them away, but she warned me. She warned me that if I let myself love again, I could break the lock. I did so well. I lived my life, hunting, alone. But then I met you. And I met Dean. And I let my guard down, and I let myself love. I put you both in danger. I truly am a monster. _Run_."

Sam steps toward me. "No"

"Then I will."

...

I close my eyes, and disappear. When I open them again, I am at the crossroads where Sam told me he loved me the first time.

I close them again. Now I am standing outside the bunker. I look at it forlornly, and close my eyes again.

I am in the town that I destroyed, little more than a barren field now.

I can _never_ go home.


	6. Can't Ditch the Winchesters That Easily

**Chapter Six: Part One**

**SAM**

...

I sit on the couch and stare through the TV. The news is on, but I can't focus on it. My head spins from lack of sleep.

It has been six months.

Six months of torture, of wondering, and of hoping.

Six months of looking for her.

She had vanished into thin air in the middle of that field. She left us her car to drive home in. I knew she would never just leave it. I held out hope that she would come back for it, and that I could talk to her. But that night, it too disappeared. That's how I knew she was really gone.

"SAMMY!"

I nearly jump out of my skin, "God Dean, you didn't have to yell, I'm right here."

"Maybe physically," He says. "But you sure as hell aren't here mentally. I've been talking to you for five minutes. You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

I don't answer.

"I miss her too little brother. Believe me. But this isn't healthy man. You don't look like you've slept at all. You're barely eating, and no offense, but you look like hell. You have to snap out of this. It doesn't matter how hard you look. If Mac doesn't want to be found, she won't be found. You saw her vanish right in front of us. Her powers are too great."

The sound of her name causes me to cringe. Up until, _apparently_, just now, Dean has handled her disappearance with silence. For him to mention her must mean I am doing worse than I thought.

"You're wasting your time Sam." He finishes.

I feel rage bubbling up inside of me, but I keep my mouth shut. 'He is just trying to help.' I remind myself.

But nothing he says will ever help.

She is gone.

My mind starts to slip off into a waking coma again, not wanting to be a part of this conversation, and Dean takes the remote out of my hand.

"What the _hell_?" He says.

He turns up the volume, and I stare blankly at the screen.

We hear the tail end of the reporters story."-both stabbed. Now we go to live coverage of the press conference." The screen shifts to a large man with a red face. "At this point we must assume that the targets are the elected officials of Boaz. The victims so far include the DA, and the Sheriff. When we put that with the attempt on the Mayors life last night, the pattern becomes clear. At this time the only lead we have is a yellow Dodge Charger that was seen leaving the scene immediately after the Mayor was attacked."

A blurry picture flashes on the screen, and suddenly my whole world comes into acute focus.

I stand up, "That's her car!"

"Sammy… there _is_ more than one yellow Charger in the world." Dean points out.

"NO! Not like that one! '69 Dodge Charger, yellow with one black door! Remember the hunting accident? We had to have the door replaced. _Heh_. She was so pissed at that arachne for taking off her door that she lobbed its head clean of with her stupid rusty poker." I laugh.

Dean stares at me like I'm a ghost.

"What?" I ask.

"Sorry, its just, that's the first time I've seen you laugh since she left." He replies, looking down at his feet.

"We have to go to her!" I say.

"Sam…. if that was her, she is _long gone_ by now." He points out.

"Not necessarily," I argue, "She went after the Mayor for a reason. I know her, she won't leave until the job is done."

"Why would Mac be offing the elected officials of _Boaz, Alabama_?" He asks.

"I don't know, but I'm sure she has a good reason!"

"What if she doesn't? What if she is just all demon-spawny now and she kills just because?"

I struggle to keep my cool. Punching my brother's stupid face is not a good way to start a road trip.

"Are you coming or not?"

"Okay. Let's go." He surrenders to my stubbornness.

As we load up the Impala, Dean asks me "What do you expect to happen when we get there? Do you really think she'll wait for even one second to hear us out? What makes you think she won't vanish on the spot?"

"I _have_ to try Dean. She needs to know she still has a home."

"Then let's do this." He says, and the car spins out onto the main road.

...

Seventeen hours later we pull into the parking lot of the Boaz Sheriffs Department.

I grab our ID's out if the glove box and we walk in.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" the nervous looking deputy asks.

Dean flashes his badge. "I'm Agent Cain, this is my partner Agent Morris-"

My mind flashes back to the first time I used those names as our aliases. _The first time I saw Mac_.

Dean and I were working a haunting. Dean had come up on her picking a lock at the back door of the crime scene house. I heard him talking to her, and came around the house for backup. When I first saw her, I thought my heart would beat out if my chest. Her beautiful brown hair draping down her back, her huge green eyes looking at me...

"Follow me gentlemen." my attention is dragged back to the present.

We follow the Deputy into his office, and he lifts a box onto his desk.

"I have to say, I'm real glad y'all are here. I've got nothing on this case, but the picture of the car."

He hands me the picture. "Do you mind if I keep this?" I ask.

"Anything to help agent." he shrugs.

I hold on to the picture like a lifeline. She _was_ here.

"Hey, do you have any recent footage of the Mayor? Say, within the past week, since the killings started?" Dean suddenly asks.

"Well, we have one of a press conference he did, right after the Sheriffs death." The Deputy responds.

"Can we see it?" He asks.

"Sure thing."

...

Dean and I are now sitting in the dark conference room alone, watching a taping of the press conference from the Mayor regarding the death of the Sheriff.

Half way through the speech, a woman comes up to whisper something in the Mayors ear. He has to tilt his head to hear what she is saying, causing his eyes to peek over the top of his tinted glasses. A bright glare shines from his eyes, until he raises his head, and they are again covered. "I have just been informed," he says slowly, "That the District Attorney was found dead in his home. I have no further details at this time."

"THERE!" Dean exclaims. "_Shifters_!"

"This press conference must be what brought Mac here. She saw the glare." I point out excitedly.

"What next?" Dean asks.

We walk up to the Deputy, who is busy at his desk.

"Deputy, we would like to keep surveillance at the Governors house tonight, for his safety." I say.

"Oh that's not necessary, he has a fully armed guard stationed at his front door for now, until the killer is caught." The Deputy responds.

"I understand that," Dean says, "but I'm sure he would feel much better knowing that two FBI agents are on the job too. After all he was nearly assassinated in his own house two nights ago."

"Maybe you're right," he replies. "I'll let Mayor Miller know you're coming."

I feel strangely optimistic as I walk up the Mayors front steps. I am excited to think that, less than two days ago, Mackenzie walked up these same steps. This is the closest I've been to her since she left.

Dean takes the back way to scope out exit routes, and meets me at the front door.

"Found this in the bushes out back," he says, and holds out his hand. When I see what he is holding I nearly hug him. It's Mac's poker! I take it from him and study it closely. There is blood on it, and I hope it is the shifters. I slide it into my bag gently, and walk into the house.

We take our post outside the governor's bedroom door, and the armed guard is posted outside his window.

At about twenty after midnight, I hear a gentle click. I motion to Dean, and he motions back, he heard it too.

I place my hand on the light switch, and count down. Three, Two, One- I flip the light on.

There, standing in front of me is Mackenzie. The woman I have searched so long for, and she is finally within reach. But my heart drops. She looks pissed. She clearly did not _want_ to be found.

I walk toward her slowly, palms toward her, as if I were approaching a skittish animal.

"Mac, I just want to talk…plea-"

Before I can finish, she has expertly knocked both Dean and I to the ground. She rushes past us and into the Mayors bedroom.

"Low blow Mac" Dean says, re-using a line from the days when he used to spar with her. "I wasn't ready."

I hear the ripping of flesh, as I stand up and run toward the bedroom. The shifter lies on the ground, his heart penetrated by a silver dagger. The window is open, and the armed guard is knocked unconscious. I jump out the window and head toward the driveway. I make it just in time to see her tear out onto the highway.

"Jeez I forgot how kick ass she can be when she is focused" Dean says, as he races up behind me.

"Couple of things:" He continues. "First, I notice she didn't use her powers, that has to be a good sign right? And second, I have an idea."

...

**Chapter Six: Part Two**

**MACKENZIE**

I lay on my bed curled up into the fetal position, sobbing.

I had worked so hard to pull it together and hunt again, but seeing him tonight ripped the wound wide open.

I look at the bloody silver dagger lying on the floor, and I wonder if they have figured it out yet. I think about Sam's face. He had darks circles under his eyes, like he hadn't slept for days. I feel so guilty. I don't want to cause him pain; I don't want him to want me anymore. Maybe it's best if they do think I'm nothing but a monster.

Then they could let me go.

That thought sends me into another fit of hysteria. I sob myself to sleep, and dream of my little lost family.

I wake up in the morning, feeling like I'd never slept. The news of the Mayors grisly murder is all over TV.

Then I see something that causes my blood to turn to ice. Sam and Dean's faces flash on the screen. They are climbing into the back of a cop car.

I turn the volume up. "…..taken in for questioning regarding impersonating a federal agent." I hear the reporter wrap up.

"No" I whisper in disbelief. This is my fault. If they hadn't seen my car, they never would have come.

...

I walk toward the police station with a determined look on my face. As I walk in a Deputy greets me.

"Can I help you?" He asks.

"Federal Marshall," I say. "I'm here for prisoner transport."

"No offense Marshal, but I'll have to run your credentials before I can release them to you. I'm sure you understand giving the current situation."

"Of course," I smile. "Here you go." I hand him my badge.

I look over at the holding cell while the Deputy takes my badge to the back. Sam and Dean stand at the front, of the cell, watching the process. My heart breaks a thousand times in that moment at the thought of leaving them again. How many times we have bailed each other out of situations like this. How many close calls we have had. They truly are everything to me.

"Everything checks out," he says. "Just need you to sign some paperwork, and you can take the prisoners and go."

Dean and Sam look confused. Generally if our ID's are going to be checked, we bail long before the checking is done. Luckily I know a guy who is an amazing hacker.

I handcuff them, and the Deputy helps me get them into the back of the waiting Impala.

"Nice car Marshall." The deputy says. "Well, stay safe."

"You too," I smile.

I exhale as we pull out of the lot and onto the highway.

"Told you so." Dean says. I look in the rearview and he is grinning at Sam.

"What?" I say.

"Sam didn't think you would come. We put our asses on the line to get you in the car with us Mac. Now you have to listen to us."

"Wait, you got caught on purpose?" I hiss. "Do you realize what you could have done?! I could have lost it, used my powers! People could have been hurt! Have you lost your damn mind?!"

"Yeah, you could have used your powers. But you didn't." he says. "Which just proves my point."

"You aren't a danger to anyone." Sam adds. "You've got this."

I pull over. "This is my stop."

My car is parked along the road. I reach for the door handle, when I feel something cold snap around my wrist.

"Seriously?" I look down at my wrist, which just happens to now be handcuffed to Sam's.

"Yup." He says. "You are not going anywhere until we talk about this."

He pulls me over the back seat by my waste, and out of the car. Then he looks down at me softly.

"Don't go. Please, come home."

"I…I cant Sam"

"Do you still love me?" He asks.

"Yes." I hang my head as silent tears fall down my face. "More than anything in this world. It's because I love you that I can't stay. You heard Lilin. You know what I have done. I am dangerous. I have only just managed to lock my powers away again. You know what I am capable of, and you know I can't always control it. I can't risk your life and Deans because I want to be with you."

"Fine, let me put it this way," he says. "I _never_ stopped looking for you Mackenzie, and I _never_ will. If you leave again, this situation will undoubtedly repeat itself. I will find you over and over, as many times as it takes. **But** if you stay, if you come home, we can search for a way to put your powers away permanently _together._ "

For a moment, I cannot speak. I wrestle with my self, and change my mind a thousand times.

"Lets go home." I give in.

He backs me against the Impala and kisses me. A million fireworks erupt in my brain, and every worry, every fear, every doubt I have melts away into pure bliss.


	7. Problem Solved Probably

"AhhhhhhhHhhh SHIT!"

I trip over a root and fall back, dropping my flare gun.

Sam snags my waste and pulls me out of the path of the charging Wendigo just in time.

"J_EEZ MAC! PAY ATTENTION_!" Dean yells from across the hollow, as he runs toward us. Not an easy task, since he is in a suit and dress shoes.

"OH _SHUT UP_" I reply, "I WAS TOTALLY PAYING ATTENTION! That root came out of nowhere. Also, YOU'RE LATE!"

"I got held up at the sheriffs office!"

Sam and I roll out of the way again. I land about four feet away from him, and the Wendigo turns on me, fangs bared.

Sam takes off in the opposite direction and yells "Come get me ass hole!" The Wendigo spins and charges at him.

"WRONG MOVE BITCH!" I say, as I reach my gun and send a flare flying into the Wendigos left butt cheek.

He explodes into flame and burns to ashes.

I don't know if it's the sleep deprivation or general insanity, but I fall over sideways, laughing hysterically.

"I...just...shot a Wendigo in...the ass." I gasp for air. "Ahhahhahahah"

Sam walks over and sits beside me.

"You are certifiably insane Mac." He laughs.

"I fucking know." I say, still laughing.

Dean finally makes it over to us.

"Oh my god Mackenzie you are going to get yourself killed pulling stunts like that." Dean reprimands.

"I know," I say, still giggling. "Sorry"

"Whatever, at least you're both ok." He holds out his hand to help me to my feet.

We drag our thoroughly beaten asses to the Impala, and I flop into the back seat.

"Wake me up when we get back to the bunker." I say.

But there is no rest for the wicked. Almost as soon as we make it to the interstate we catch another case.

A voice comes over the police scanner "Two bodies" -static noise- "strange markings" -more static-"221 west Moore street"

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck." I moan, as Dean pulls an illegal u-turn. "The gods hate me."

We pull up to the crime scene and Dean gets out. He is the only one who hasn't been beaten half to death by the Wendigo, thanks to his late arrival, so he goes in to investigate. "Be right back kids. Hands to yourself."

"Ughhhh" I sit up, and lean over the front seat. I kiss Sam on the cheek and then rest my head on the back of his shoulder.

"You feeling ok?" Sam asks. "I know that Wendigo got you pretty good while we were in the cave. Pretty sure I heard a rib or two crack."

"I'm fine." I reply. "Just sore and tired."

He turns his head, and his lips gently brush my hair.

"I love you."

"Love you too." I smile wearily.

"We need to talk about my problem."

"I know, we still haven't found a way to permanently lock up your powers, but you are controlling them. You didn't even use them earlier when we were getting our asses kicked." He responds too quickly, clearly worried that I might be planning to vanish again.

"Calm down, I'm not going anywhere" I smile. "I'm home for good. I just want to figure it out soon. "

"We will." He smiles.

"We've definitely got another case guys" Dean says. "The crime scenes still fresh, and there was definitely a demon here."

"No!" I say "No demons! They know who I am. They know my weaknesses."

"I have faith you can handle this Mac" Dean says.

"Well I don't."

"You've got this"

"UGH"

...

We pull into the motel at noon, and I groan as I drag myself out of the back seat.

Dean heads strait for the bar across the street, and Sam follows me into our room.

We begin to change out of our matted, bloody clothes.

When I pull my shirt off Sam gasps.

At first I am confused, but then I see myself in the mirror. Down my side and half of my back is a horrid purple and black bruise.

"You need to go to the hospital," he says. "There is no way something isn't broken."

"Maybe a few ribs," I consent. "But there isn't anything they could do about that anyway. I'll wrap it up, and I'll be fine."

He walks over to me and takes my face in his hands, "You are very stubborn," he says, as he leans down to kiss me.

"Ugh!" Dean exclaims, as he walks in the door "Am I going to have to get my own room? How can you even be foolin' around with a bruise like that?"

I shoot him a dirty look and walk toward the shower. "We weren't fooling around, and I'm fine."

I stand in the shower and let the hot water loosen my muscles. I've always been an independent person, and while it's nice, I'm not used to people fussing over me. I rest my back against the side of the shower and let myself relax for just a moment.

I step out of the shower and begin to dry off. I wipe off the steamed up mirror to better examine my wounds.

But they are gone.

"What the..._Sam_?!"

Sam runs into the bathroom. "What's wrong?"

"Look?!" I point at my side.

"How..."

"I don't know!" I wail.

"Is this a bad thing?" He says confused.

"Yes it is! Don't you see? I let my guard down for just a few seconds, and my powers healed me." I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

"Baby, it's ok. You just healed a bruise. That's not dark."

"All my powers come from Lilith. They are _all_ dark."

"I'm sorry. We'll figure this out. I promise."

...

I sleep fitfully, and we wake up at midnight to go back to the crime scene.

I pick the lock to the back door, and we go in.

As soon as walk in the room, we draw our weapons.

In a half circle, around where the bodies had been, stand six women. They are facing us, hands linked.

They don't speak, and the boys seem to have lost the ability to converse, so I step forward.

"What the hell are you doing?" I say.

I definitely have never been the tactful one in the group.

The women suddenly look terrified and back away. "How is she moving?" One of the women addresses the oldest woman on the far right.

Then I realize the boys _literally_ can't move. They are frozen in place.

"Unfreeze them!" I demand. The old woman complies immediately, her eyes wide with fear.

Dean and Sam are pretty pissed about being frozen.

"What is a coven doing at our crime scene?" Dean demands.

"Why are hunters with a _demon spawn_?" The Elder Witch retorts.

I blink hard and step back, as I realize the reason I was not frozen.

My damn powers.

"She's a hunter too. And she is pretty damn powerful, so whatever you're doing over there on the end, _stop that_." He turns to a witch who has just pulled a hex bag out of her pocket.

"That is a protection bag." Says the Elder Witch. "We've never encountered something so powerful as a hybrid."

"Damn right" Dean says. "So you'd better talk"

I don't like Dean threatening people with my powers. Not even witches.

"I'm not going to use my powers," I say to the witch with the hex bag. "But I would like to know if your coven killed these people."

"No," she responds with a shaking voice. "We are White Seers. A demon killed these people. We are hunting him, so we can take his powers and lock them away. We do not kill."

Suddenly a million jumbled thoughts rush through my head.

"You can do that?" I ask stepping forward.

The witches all step back in unison.

"I mean, could you do that to me?! Destroy my powers for good?"

"The powers aren't destroyed. They are literally locked away, in a box, kind of like Pandora's box. Then we keep the boxes somewhere safe, so that the powers can no longer be used. This makes the demon as harmless as a human." Says the scaredy-witch.

"_Could you do that to me_?" I repeat.

"As I said," the Elder Witch steps forward, "We've never encountered your type before. And one with a mother so strong as Lilith... We know our limits. We have no desire to fight you."

"What? _No_! I don't want to fight! I would give it willingly." I promise.

The old witch looks shocked. "I...I don't know. A Hybrid is different. And it is not a painless process. Your heart must be stopped to complete the spell."

Sam walks up and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Mac… can we talk about this please?"

"I'll do it," I say to the witches.

"Your love is right. This is not a decision to be made lightly, and we do not know if it will work. We must go now. I will come back to you in the morning, and seek your decision." The witches file out of the front door.

I feel a new hope growing in my chest. I could be free.

"_Harmless as a human_" she'd said.

...

When we reach the motel Sam grabs my wrist and leads me into the room. He spins around, and I see that he is royally pissed.

"How DARE you? You were willing to DIE on the off chance that a coven of witches could STEAL YOUR POWER?! How could you do that to me?!"

Dean steps between Sam and I, and faces Sam.

"Easy Sammy. Remember how you felt when you had Azazels blood? You hated yourself. You wanted to die. Don't yell at her like that. You of all people should understand."

I step around Dean and walk toward Sam.

"I'm not doing this _to_ you. I'm doing it _for_ you. And Dean. And the rest of the living human population."

"No. I can't let you. What if something goes wrong?! You heard them. They have never performed this on a Hybrid. It's different!" he argues.

"I will be ok! Have faith in me please."

"There is _no way_ I will agree to this. If you do this, you do it against my will."

...

I wake up in the morning to the sound of a gentle knock on the door. I get out of bed gently, doing my best not to wake Sam. Before I make it off the bed he reaches out and touches my arm. "Mac, I've been up all night thinking, and, I'm sorry. I _do_ know what it's like to want to be rid of dark powers. I was being selfish. I'll do whatever it takes to help you."

I crawl across the bed and kiss him passionately. "Thank you so much. I love you."

"Whelp, let's do this" Dean flips his covers back, and he is already fully dressed. He knew I would sneak out, and he had planned to come with me. I smile and shake my head.

I walk to the door, and all six seers are waiting. "Come in" I offer.

They stand inside the door, and turn to me.

"Have you made your decision?" The Elder asks.

"Yes. I want my powers locked away."

"We will try, on one condition." She says.

"Which is?"

"We have been hunting this demon for months. Too many innocent lives have been lost. We want you to summon him so that we may take his powers."

"I can't! I don't control demons. I won't! I don't use my powers. Can we just hunt him for you?" I plead.

"We do not condone taking life. We know you can control him. We know about the legion you willed to ashes. You can do this. Will you?" She asks.

Sam walks up behind me, and places his hand on my shoulder.

"You can handle this Mac. It's a good deed. It will save lives, and it will help you lock up your powers for good."

"Ok, I'll try."

"Do, or do not, there is no try" Dean says sarcastically.

"Do not make me punch you." I say.

We head outside, and the witches drift toward a large white van. The thought of a coven traveling around in a Chevy Van makes me giggle.

We follow them in the Impala to an abandoned warehouse downtown.

They lead us inside. On the floor is a giant devils trap. To the right is a bronze altar, and to the left is a pedestal with two cryptic looking boxes.

"Summon the demon." Says the Elder Witch.

"Gimme a minute! I've never done this before? What do I say?" I reply.

"You don't have to *say anything. You merely have to think it, and he will come." She explains. "Thus is the extent of your power."

"O...kay"

I close my eyes, and picture the room where the demons last victims were found. I feel his presence, and I grab ahold of it. "Come" I think.

I am suddenly back in the warehouse. Standing before us, is the demon.

"You called master?" He says to me.

"I'm not your master." I say, and then gesture to the witches to begin.

I watch as they approach him. He tries to run, but the devils trap holds him.

The eldest witch begins to chant. The demon disappears from the trap, and is now bound to the altar.

He screams and curses, as the rest of the witches take up the chant. Each witch is reciting something different in Latin.

"Abeo" they all finish the chant on the same word.

The demon stops struggling, and lies still on the bronze slab.

The witch takes a dagger out of her belt, and makes a cut down the right arm of the demon. A black essence oozes out, and scaredy-witch holds the box open to let the essence flow into it.

"Clauditis" they say in unison.

The box snaps shut with a metallic clink.

"Vita"

The demon gasps and sits up on the table.

"Go," says Margaret. "Live your life in penitence."

The demon walks out of the warehouse, and that is the last we see of him.

I gulp hard and look back at the witches.

"Are you ready child?" The eldest witch asks.

"As I'll ever be." I walk toward the altar. Sam grabs my arm, and looks at me with a pained expression. And then he kisses me, and I can feel all of his nightmares in the kiss.

"I'll be ok." I promise him.

I walk toward the altar and lie down on it.

The witches begin to chant, and my body is pressed to the altar. It feels like a thousand pound block is placed on my chest. I cannot breath, and the world goes blurry.

"Abeo" they finish.

I am no longer in my body. I am in spirit form, standing in front of the coven.

I look back at Sam, who is panicking at my lifeless form. Dean holds him back.

The elder witch looks shocked at my presence. I look down, and in my hand is a black jewel.

"This is new" she says.

"What?!" Sam asks frantically.

She ignores him and walks toward me, holding the box.

"Will you surrender your powers child?"she asks.

I look at the jewel for a moment, and then I drop it in the box.

"Clauditis" she says, and the box locks.

"Vita"

She says, but something is wrong. I feel no draw back toward my body.

"VITA"

"Reverti vita!"

Nothing.

The entire coven takes up the chant "REVERTI VITA"

But it has no effect. Suddenly Sam breaks free of Deans grasp and runs to my body.

He begins CPR. "Dammit Mac, come back."

He refuses to stop, even after it seems hopeless. Dean walks up and puts his hand on Sam's shoulder, but Sam shrugs him off. "No" he says.

Suddenly I feel it, a strong pull toward my body. I give into it and everything goes dark.

I gasp and sit up on the altar. Sam holds me tight. "I thought you were gone."

I look at the Elder Witch. She looks exhausted.

"Did it work?" I ask.

"You gave your powers willingly." She holds out the box.

"No, I don't want it." I decline.

"This coven will not accept responsibility for a power this great. You must keep it safe." She says.

"May I?" The scaredy-witch asks. She takes the box in her hand, and closes her eyes.

"Horreat" she says.

The box shrinks down to the size of a six sided die. She drops it in my hand. I place it in a leather pouch that I carry around my neck.

"Be warned" the elder witch says. "If this box is ever opened, your powers can never be locked up again. It only works once."

"This box will never be opened" I promise, as I hop down from the altar.

...

We head back to the motel. I am too exhausted to speak.

Sam picks me up and carries me inside, to the bed. He holds me in his lap, and my head rests on his shoulder.

"Thank you" I say "For not giving up."

"_Please_, like I'm ever going to give up on you."


	8. Little Things

Small things matter.

The smile on Sam's face, the steady beating of his heart, the butterflies in my stomach as he strokes my back.

In the six months I have been back to the bunker, since my powers have been locked away; I have never been more aware of the worth of beautiful, pure, human feelings.

Although we hunt some of the world's most wicked creatures on a daily basis, I have never felt more at peace.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam asks me.

"Happiness" I reply. "I never thought I would find it. I didn't know hunters could have happiness. Our whole life has been one complication after another, but now with you, it just feels right. Like we can have everything."

"I know what you mean," he says. "I never thought I could afford to love someone so much, without putting their lives in danger. But I guess when that particular someone can take out just about anything with a fireplace poker, they are pretty safe from my shitty luck."

"And now _you_ are safe from _me_" I smile.

Suddenly Dean bursts into the room. "KITCHEN FIRE!"

"But apparently _no-one_ is safe from Dean" I sigh.

Ever prepared, Sam grabs a fire extinguisher from beside his bed, and we run toward the kitchen, where a pan of stir-fry has evolved into a wicked flaming beast.

Sam sprays the stove and I put out a part of Deans shirt that he didn't notice had caught fire. Once the dust has settled I lean against the wall, exhausted.

"You are _not_ allowed to cook anymore." I gripe.

"You're the woman, why aren't _you_ cooking?" he jokes.

I punch him in the arm, and he flinches.

"Play nice ladies," Sam says.

I laugh and look at them both.

They are sweaty and singed, and a real mess.

And they are the best family a girl could ask for.

I feel a warm sensation in my stomach.

Then I run to the bathroom, and throw up my guts.

"_OH MY GOD GROSS_!" Dean says from the doorway of the bathroom.

Sam shoves him out of the way. "Mac are you ok?" He rubs my back gently.

"Yeah" I say, and then turn to Dean. "Your smelly burnt dinner is what made me puke in the first place. That's what's gross."

"Hey that stir-fry would have been kickass if it hadn't caught fire." He argues.

"Ugh, don't say that word anymore." I plead.

"What, stir-fry?" Dean asks maliciously.

I puke again.

…

At midnight that night, I find myself pacing in front of Deans door. I place my hand on the knob, but shake my head and go back to pacing again.

I reach for the doorknob a second time, but before I can grasp it, the door flings open, and Dean is standing with his pistol trained on me.

As soon as he realizes it's me, his eyes widen, and he sets his pistol on the dresser.

"What's wrong Mac?" He asks.

"Can I come in?"

He opens the door and gestures for me to enter.

"What's up?" he asks. "You look like… well I was going to say like you've seen a ghost, but I guess that doesn't apply to people in our line of work."

"I need your help." I say. My palms are sweaty and my arms are shaking. "I need you to take me to the drug store."

"At midnight? You still sick to your stomach? Why cant Sam-"

"Because I don't want Sam to know." I cut in. "_Please_? I am really dizzy, I don't think I can drive, and I'm kind of freaking out."

"Mac you're acting really strange. What's up?"

"I think I…" I hesitate, having trouble pushing the words out.

"I think I might be pregnant."

Now it is Dean who looks like he might throw up. I see a thousand emotions flash across his face, and I cannot tell what he is thinking.

"Let me go." He finally offers. "You wait here and rest."

"Thank you." I say, struggling to hold back tears.

…

An hour later, I hear the Impala pull in to the driveway of the bunker.

I meet Dean at his bedroom door, and he hands me a paper bag.

"That was a very awkward shopping trip." He says, trying to lighten my mood.

I take the bag into Dean's bathroom, and follow the instructions that are in the box.

I sit on the edge of his tub and press my fists against my mouth, trying to suppress the sheer panic I feel. After two minutes, I reach out for the test with a shaky hand.

…

I open the door to Dean's bathroom. He is sitting on his bed waiting for me. The edges of my vision are blurry and I feel like I might pass out. Dean apparently catches this, because he quickly grabs my shoulders and guides me to sit on his bed.

"It was positive…" I say, my voice quaking.

"Oh god" Dean rubs the back of his head.

"What am I going to do?" I begin to sob. "This can't be happening."

"You have to tell Sammy, Mac."

"I can't!" I say, suddenly frantic. "I can't tell him. I can't have a baby! Anyone who would bring a baby into a world like this is nothing short of a monster. I don't know how this happened. What am I going to do?!"

"Mac, I can't tell you what to do. It's your choice, but Sam deserves to be a part of it."

Dean hugs me, as I fall apart.

…

I sit at the kitchen table, watching the light from the newly risen sun filter through the blinds.

Sam shuffles in, in only his pajama bottoms, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"You're up early." He states.

"I never slept," I answer.

"What's wrong?" He walks in front of me and takes my balled up fists in his hands. "Are you still sick?"

"Sam, I'm pregnant." I push the words out before I lose courage.

Sam doesn't move for a moment.

Then he falls to his knees and looks into my eyes.

"Remember the conversation we had yesterday Mac?" He asks softly. "We could do this. We could be a family. I mean, not a white picket fence family maybe. And definitely not a normal family, but a family."

"Yes. But that conversation applied to you and me. We are two full-grown adults with hunting experience and the general ability to protect ourselves. How on earth can we care for a baby? We were both raised as hunters. We both know this life is hell. How can we do this?"

I hear the front door open and close. Dean rushes into the kitchen carrying a shopping bag.

"Look, I know, I have no say in this," he says hurriedly "And I know you think bringing a kid into this type of life is wrong, but just… look at these tiny shoes!" He holds up a pair of baby boots next to his face and smiles.

Sam laughs. "Things aren't always as hopeless as they seem Mac! We were all raised as hunters, and yes life has been hard as hell, but look at us now?! We are family! And we are happy!"

"Yeah and this kid can be happy too! It can! It'll have the worlds most kickass mom and dad teaching it how to fend for itself. And it'll have me! What kid could do better then that?!" Adds Dean.

They both look at me expectantly.

I place my hand on my stomach gently.

"At least this baby will have the best dad and uncle in the world."

Sam lifts my hands to his mouth and kisses them each in turn, and Dean bear hugs the both of us.

"Guys," Dean grins "We're gonna have a baby!"


	9. The Zealot Hunters

"Coooold" I say as the Doctor Johnson rubs jelly crap on my stomach.

"It'll warm up fast," Chuckles the doctor. He is a kind old man, who owns a private practice near Lebanon. We had once helped him get rid of an angry spirit who had died in his office from an overdose. The doctor had been unable to save the man, and his spirit had wreaked havoc. Since the hunt, we had all gone to Doctor Johnson for everything. It's much easier to explain our kind of injuries to someone who was fully aware of our particular line of business.

I am officially three months accidentally pregnant. Dean and Sam stand by my shoulder, watching the screen with rapture.

"Ok where is it?" Dean asks.

The nurse points to a tiny blob on the screen.

"Whoa Sam you knocked Mac up with a jellybean."

"Why did we bring him again?" I joke.

I smile and look back at the screen. I see a blipping that indicates a tiny heartbeat. I feel like my heart beats in sync. In fact, in the past two months it seems like everything has been revolving around that one tiny accidental miracle. I try to remember how I felt when I first found out, but I can't. It has all been erased by that tiny blip.

…

On the way home we stop by a burger joint. Dean orders hot wings and a hot fudge Sunday. He keeps dipping the hot wings into the ice cream, which makes me want to puke.

"Seriously, Dean?" Sam asks.

"Sympathy cravings." He grins.

I roll my eyes and nibble on my saltines that I carry everywhere to settle my stomach.

Unfortunately it does no good, so I excuse myself to the bathroom.

I bend over the toilet to puke, but nothing comes up.

"Oh good, false alarm." I say, and begin to get up.

Suddenly someone grabs my hair and slings me into the side of the stall.

I turn and shove my hand into my assailants ski masked face. I hit my mark, and blood gushes from his nose.

Then I press my hands hard against the sides of the stall and lift myself up to kick him hard in the chest. He flies through the stall door and hits the sink hard.

I draw my revolver from my concealed shoulder holster and aim it at his forehead with one hand. With the other I dial Sam.

"Need you two to come to the girls bathroom. Someone just attacked me. He probably has a concussion now." I say.

Seconds later he and Dean burst in.

"You done messed up son." Dean says.

He walks up and rips off the mask.

"Morrison?!" Sam exclaims. "What the hell man?" He grabs the man that apparently he knows by the color and stands him up.

Then he backs him against the wall. "Why did you just attack my girlfriend?!" He demands. "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR DAMN MIND?"

"No" Morrison replies. "But you have. You have let this succubus into your presence. You let a DEMON SPAWN infiltrate your life. You both clearly have been taken in by her guiles."

"FIRST of all you little shit, don't use words you don't understand. SECOND this girl is part of our family. WHY THE HELL would you think you could get away with this?!" Dean growls.

"I'm a hunter, and I'm hunting a monster, same as always. You boys, on the other hand, seem to be content with cuddling right up with them now."

Sam's face is now inches from Morrison's. "Mackenzie did not choose her birth parents, and she has spent her whole life hunting. She makes the world a better place."

"SHE TOOK OUT AN ENTIRE TOWN OF INNOCENTS!" Morrison shouts.

Sam loses his temper and socks Morrison in the jaw.

"Now what do we do with him?" Dean points at a sealed window.

I take of my t-shirt and wrap it around my fist, and then punch out the window.

"Solved."

Dean walks around the back of the restaurant and pulls Morrison up through the window.

Blood drips on my white undershirt. I look in the mirror, and see a nasty cut on my forehead.

Sam turns me toward him and wipes the blood off of my forehead.

"You ok?" He says.

"Yeah I'm good." I confirm.

"You comin'?" Dean sticks his head through the window.

"Yep." I say and I jump out. Sam follows.

…

We arrive at the bunker. My over shirt has been ripped up and crafted into a lovely blindfold so that Morrison cannot see what is happening.

Sam drags him in by his collar and sits him down hard on the couch. Dean pulls up a chair until he is a about ten inches in front of Morrison, then Sam rips off the blindfold.

Dean has a huge gutting knife out, cleaning his fingernails with it. He doesn't look Morrison in the eyes.

"How did you find out about Mac's powers?" He asks.

Morrison eyes the hunting knife warily. "It's a pretty well known story in the hunting community. I don't know the original source. All I know is that girl is guilty of a monstrous act. And she has more power than anyone should be allowed to."

"She had no control of her actions that day." Dean defends me "Lilith pushed her over the edge. She didn't even know she was a Hybrid until then. Since then she found a way to lock them up. If it weren't true, don't you think you would be a pile of ash on a girls bathroom floor?"

"You didn't try to kill a monster today." Sam growls, "You tried to kill the woman I love, and my unborn child."

Morrison's eyes open wide at the revelation.

"Let me be very very VERY clear with you." Dean finishes "And I want you to spread this far and wide in the hunting community; Anyone who wants Mackenzie Tyler, has to go through the Winchester brothers."

Sam hits Morris on the back of the head, knocking him out cold. He and Dean drag him out to the Impala and shove him in the trunk.

...

I sit on the couch waiting for them to return. I've never seen them act so dark before, and I've seen them interrogate a demon. It worries me.

They finally pull in the drive from dumping a thoroughly spooked Morrison god knows where. Sam comes in, and lifts me off the couch to kiss me. "I'm sorry this happened." He says.

"It's ok. I guess it was pretty inevitable." I reply.

"I doubt it'll happen again. If it does, we will handle it." Dean says.

…

The more time that passes, the more anxious I get.

It has been two months since the attack at the burger joint.

I've stopped going on hunting trips. It's too dangerous for the baby. I wait in the bunker, and it is hell. Every creak and groan sends me into a frenzy.

Sam walks into the living room of the bunker to find me curled up in the middle of the couch, grasping my lucky poker for dear life.

"Baby, it's been two months. We haven't heard anything from any other hunter. I think we are ok." He tries to soothe me.

"You're right. I probably just need to get out of the bunker for a while." I reply.

"Lets go out then." He smiles.

I walk to my room to get dressed. I grimace at everything I try on, because none of it fits right. I am definitely starting to show. Finally I settle with a pair of loose fitting cargo pants, and a black tank top.

"I'm ready." I say.

His eyes light up. "You are so beautiful."

" I think the word you are looking for is 'puffy'." I smile.

….

As we drive, I think maybe I am over reacting because of hormones.

Dean is bobbing up and down excitedly in the back seat. "LASER TAG". He shouts.

"OH my god you are a child." Sam replies.

When we pull into the arcade, we all file into the laser tag dome. We start the game, and I am dominating.

Puffy or not, I'm still pretty kick ass.

There is fake fog, and strobe lights, making the layout very confusing.

I creep around a wall to find Dean unconscious.

"Shit"

I drop my laser gun, and pull out the real thing, just as a man in a cowboy hat and army boots rounds the barrier, his gun pointed at me.

I level my revolver on him in a split second, and pull the trigger. He drops like lead. I turn and see a group of what I can only assume from the anti possession charms are hunters, walking toward me, weapons drawn.

I jump over the dead cowboy and around the blockade. "SAM!" I call.

He comes from behind me firearm pulled, and drops a man in a black tank top.

"Cover me!" he says.

I drop another hunter, as she levels her gun on Dean's unconscious form.

Sam runs for Dean, and lifts him up over his shoulders. He turns to run for me, but blood explodes from his side, as a bullet enters.

"NO" I shout.

The final hunter leans out from the barrier again, only to find me inches away this time. I slam my heel down on his wrist, knocking the gun out of his hand.

He pulls his knife, and the hand to hand begins. I hit him in the mouth, and send teeth flying. He slashes out with his knife, cutting my arm. I back up two steps, and roundhouse kick him in the chest. He falls back for a second, stunned.

Then he kicks me. I cant breath, and I feel a sharp pain in my stomach. I fall to my knees.

I think this could be it, but then a strobe light flashes, and I see Sam standing behind him. The look on his face is terrifying. He grabs the final hunter by the hair, and pulls his head back, exposing his face.

It's Morrison.

"We warned you." He says. The hunter's neck explodes like a geyser as Sam slits it with the hunters own knife.

I look at Morrison's limp form in shock for a moment. Then reality kicks in, and I pull out my cell. Doctor Johnson answers immediately.

"Mackenzie? Is everything alright dear?"

"No Doc. We need help. Deans knocked out cold, Sam's been shot, and I just got kicked in the stomach." I reply.

"Oh my goodness." He says. "Meet me at my office as soon as possible."

…

Dean wakes up on the way to the doctors, and insists he is fine. He drops Sam and I off, and heads back to the laser tag arena, to clean up the mess.

The doctor tends to Sam first, much to Sam's protest. Luckily the injury was through and through, and hit no major organs. He bandages up the wound and then turns his attention to me.

I pull my shirt off, and it reveals a huge black and red bruise on my stomach.

"Oh Mackenzie" the doctor says, with a sad look in his eyes. "What did tell you about hunting?"

"We weren't hunting Doc" Sam interjects. "We were attacked"

"I see." He replies.

Suddenly my stomach wrenches with pain, and I nearly fall off of the examining table.

The doctor lays me back, and places his hands on my stomach, as another tremor rocks my body.

"You are going into labor." He says softly.

"No. Can't this be stopped?" Sam asks the doctor.

"I'm afraid not." The doctor says, and there are tears in his eyes.

...

An hour later, I lay curled up in the fetal position in a hospital bed in the doctors office. Sam lays in the bed next to me.

It's all over, and I feel so empty inside.

Dean walks in, and sees me lying there.

He immediately realizes what has happened.

"No" he whispers.

He pulls a chair up next to my bed and sits in it. His elbows are on my bed, and his hands are covering his head. I see a tear drop from his nose onto my sheet.

I reach out to touch his hand, and we all cry.


	10. I'm BAAAAaack

I stand in front of the window in the kitchen, staring out at the snow falling gently.

It is warm in the bunker, but I am cold.

I have been cold for what seems like an eternity.

Sam is in the living room, crumpled on the couch.

He has all but given up.

It hurts me to see him like this. But I cannot leave him.

My soul is tied to the rusty poker he holds.

I knew he would never give it up. He would carry it always. That is why I attached myself to it.

It was selfish, I know. But I couldn't bear to say goodbye.

I hadn't realized at first, that I had died during labor. I thought that the tears that they cried had only been for the baby.

But then the reaper appeared.

Even then, I thought it had come only for the soul of the child. But she beckoned to me too.

"_No_"

I would not go with her. I would _not_ leave my boys. Not when they needed me so much.

So I reached for the poker that lay beside my pillow, and held on for dear life.

…

Dean walks into the kitchen and puts a coffee cup in the sink. He looks awful. Like he is the one who died.

He hasn't slept for days. I know this for a fact because he sits in the chair across from me watch Sam every night.

He doesn't have time to grieve. Not when his brother is hurting.

…

I thought I would be angry, or vengeful. That's what spirits who refuse to move on become. But I am just sad. I know I don't technically have a heart, but I feel it breaking every time I watch Sam refuse to eat.

It's only been two weeks, but he has lost so much weight.

If only there was something I could do.

They didn't burn my body. I was shocked at this. It is almost as thought they wanted my spirit to stay.

…

Dean turns around and leans his back against the sink. "God I miss you Mac. Sammy needs you, and so do I."

My non-existent gut wrenches. I look around frantically, trying to find a way to communicate with him. Finally I see a piece of silverware balanced on the edge of the counter.

I concentrate all my emotions into a physical field, pushing on the edge of the knife.

It clatters to the floor.

Dean stares at it.

I do not know if it is just because he wants it to be so badly, but he immediately assumes it is me.

"Mac?" He whispers. "Wait here."

He runs out of the kitchen, and comes back within seconds. He has an Ouija board.

He pulls it out and sits it on the table.

"Mac, are you here?"

"YES" the piece on the board is not nearly as difficult to move as most objects.

"Oh my god. You didn't move on."

"NO"

"Mac, I want to bring you back. I want to find away. Would that be okay?"

"YES"

"Mac, Sam is doing really bad. I'm worried."

"M-E T-O-O"

"I'm so glad you didn't go."

"M-E T-O-O"

"Any ideas?"

"NO"

"What are you attached too?"

"P-O-K-E-R"

"Naturally, lets go the library." He smiles.

…

We spend a lot of time in the library over the next few weeks. I become stronger. Now I am able to take down books from the shelf, and flip through them on my own.

I can also manifest my form.

Sam is finally eating.

He is also drinking, a lot.

It breaks my heart to watch him spiraling.

Dean has not called for Castiel for help. He is afraid Cas will not approve of our mission. I don't see why not. He would do anything for the Winchesters.

I stop reading when an idea hits me.

"Summon Crowley." I say.

"I…What…Why?"

"I am a hybrid, part demon. Maybe some laws that apply normal humans don't apply to me! If anyone knows, Crowley would."

"It's worth a try!" Dean says hopefully.

…

Dean soon completes all the necessary steps of the summoning ritual, and Crowley is standing in the middle of the library.

"Oh good lord really?" He looks at us with incredulity. "Why I am summoned here by a Winchester, and his pet ghost slash demon? Can I never be shod of you fools?"

"We need your help," Dean says.

"Clearly." He replies, eyeing me distastefully.

"What can we do to reverse this?" I command.

"But, I thought the Winchesters believed that what dies should stay dead." Crowley says, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah well things change." Dean replies.

"Does Moose know about this?"

" 'Moose' doesn't need to know, if this doesn't work, it would kill him." I say.

"So you are requesting what from me?" Crowley asks.

"Is there a way I can come back? I am half demon. Does this give me a special pass or something? What can I do?" I ask.

"Oh dear. Well it's _ridiculously_ simple. But you're not going to like it." Crowley replies.

"I'll get over it. _Sam needs me_." I say.

"Well then just take back your powers love." He says, and then vanishes.

I stare at the place where Crowley just stood, speechless.

"Where is your box?" Dean asks.

"_It took so much to lock them up_."

"Sam needs you. You can lock them up inside you. You don't have to use them. But you have to come back, for him." Dean pleads.

"My box is in the leather pouch that was around my neck, so…. you buried it." I say.

"Great. I'm totally looking forward to digging up your rotting corpse." He gripes.

"OH _shut up_." I say.

…

After Dean leaves to get the box, I walk into the kitchen. Sam is there, slumped over a glass of whiskey.

He is crying.

The look on his face makes it evident. He lost me and the baby, and he has given up.

As I watch him, I know that taking my power back is most definitely a price I am willing to pay.

…

Dean comes back in the door, carrying a dirty leather pouch.

"Here you go" he holds it out.

I take it from his hands and open it up. The tiny box falls into my hand.

"Aperio" I say.

The box grows, and cracks open. I empty the familiar black jewel into my palm. It burns my hand, and the burning sensation grows. I black out, and when I wake up I am lying on the ground outside of a recently dug up grave. I am clean, and not at all rotten, which is nice.

I hear the Impala coming up the highway.

As I get in, Dean says, "Welcome back! You look good for a recently dead chick!"

"Take me home" I say.

…

When we arrive in front of the bunker, I knock on the door.

The door swings open, and Sam falls back. Then he grabs the bottle of holy water from beside the door and throws it on me.

"Not a demon." I say. "Well _mostly_ not."

"How?" He asks.

"I had to take my powers back." I explain.

Sam falls to his knees, and I do too.

"I had to come back to you," I say, taking his face in my hands. "If you don't want me here, just say so. I know I am a monster."

"Will you marry me?" he asks. "_Please_?"

"Yes Sam. Yes I will marry you. Even though I feel like you should be more certain I'm not a zombie, before you propose." I smile.

He kisses me, and I feel like everything will be ok.

…

I gasp for air as Sam pulls me on top of him. I kiss his neck and chest, and he rolls me on my back. I run my fingers through his hair, as his lips brush my jaw line.

*BUZZ BUZZ*

"Oh you have got to be kidding me. We get Dean out of the house finally, and now this!" I grouch.

I sit up and reach for my blue jeans that were flung over the lamp on the nightstand, and I pull my poker out from the drawer.

When we reach the door, a man dressed as a UPS worker tries to hand Sam a package.

"Nah," He says, "You keep it. We have a PO Box and no one has any business sending us packages at this address."

He tries to shut the door, but a pistol jammed in the door stops him.

"You _need_ to accept this package. It's a message, from Mordecai." The man says.

Sam steps back, stunned, so I take over. I grab the mans pistol, and wrench it out of his hand.

"I have no idea who Mordecai is, but I don't appreciate him sending a gun wheeling crony in khaki shorts to my front door. So you can tell him to shove it."

I slam the door.

"Sam? Sam! Snap out of it." I shout.

He shakes his head, and opens the door again. The package is still sitting on the stoop.

"Are we going to open it?" I ask.

Sam reaches out to pick it up. He opens the envelope taped to the top.

Inside it is a note that says:

"We have Dean. Bring the hybrid, and he lives."

Sam opens the box, and inside is a license plate. The number reads: KAZ 2Y5.

"_No_" Sam cries.

"Oh my god will it never fucking end for us?!" I shout. I am not scared_, I am pissed. _"If they want me, they will mother fucking **get me**."

I walk back to our room and grab both our duffels.

"Lets go."

I grab Sam by the hand, and drag him toward my car.

Sam is clearly in shock. I don't know who Mordecai is, but he must suck. I am silent for a while, until we come to an intersection.

"Which way Sam?" I ask.

"I don't know. He didn't give us a place to meet him. I think he wants us to track him down." He replies.

"Who is Mordecai?" I ask.

"He is a hunter. One we don't associate ourselves with. He takes it too far. He see's no gray in the world. It is all black and white. Everything is either pureblooded human, or a Monster who deserves to die. He is the one who sent Morrison and the other hunters after us in the first place. He has a clan of hunters. All pro's at something. He only picks the most talented. He tried to recruit me and Dean, but we turned him down. He never really forgave us for that."

"Well he can kiss my hybrid ass. I'm _not_ gonna be bullied by some dick who thinks he can take one of our own and not get shanked!"

"Mac this guy and his clan are not to be messed with. They are more like a trained militia of hunters than anything. They wouldn't come after us if they didn't have a plan to take you down. We need to approach this cautiously."

"Fine. I won't go in all half-cocked. But he _will_ pay for this. He has taken enough from me."

"I know baby. I know."

He takes my hand in his, as I fly down the road, going way too fast.

...

I lay on the hotel bed next to Sam, thinking of a thousand different ways to kill someone.

It's strange, ever since I've been back; it's like all that angry spirit crap has caught up with me.

All I want to do is find this Mordecai and make him pay.

Pay for taking Dean, for hurting Sam, for taking my life, causing me to unlock my wretched powers.

And most of all he _WILL_ pay for taking my child from me.

_I will kill Mordecai. _


	11. Good People, Bad People

I pitilessly brutalize the punching bag in the hotel gym.

The wrath I feel is overwhelming.

I swing the top of my foot into the bag with force, and the chain gives way.

"_Damn it_."

"God Mac you broke it." Sam says from the next bag over.

"Sorry I'm just really frustrated. We have no target, and no clues. I don't like being played with, and I am really worried about Dean. _It's been a week_."

"I know. Me too." He turns back to his bag and continues, showing insane amounts of his ever-present control, while I wonder around the gym looking for a new victim. I stop for a moment to watch him. His tan muscles ripple, as he moves with grace and speed.

The anger in my stomach is replaced with another feeling. I stride over to him, and block his last punch.

He turns to me with a smile on his face. "Yes?"

I wrap my arms around his neck, and stand on my tiptoes. I kiss him passionately. He picks me up by my waste and kisses me back.

"Sam Winchester?" a voice says from the front of the gym.

He sets me down, and we walk toward the intruder.

"Yes?"

"I have a package for you." Another fake UPS worker, a woman this time, holds out a tiny brown box.

I walk forward and take it from her hand.

"Get lost." I snap.

I hand the package to Sam, and he opens it.

Inside the box is a folded up photo.

It shows Sam and Dean with two men I'd never seen before, standing in front of an old cabin. They all have their arms around each other's shoulders, and they are smiling.

"Who are they?" I ask.

"Chase Botkins and Bill Riley." Sam says. "Mordecai recruited them around the same time he tried to get Dean and me."

"Then we need to go to them. They will know where Mordecai's base is located. Do you know how to reach them?" I ask excitedly.

"They left his group about 4 years ago, last I heard. But I don't think they'll want to help us. We had a pretty big falling out when they first joined up with that psycho."

"Oh, they _will_ give me the info." I promise.

...

I crouch on the ledge of a high wall like a gargoyle.

Two men walk below me, unaware.

"I don't know Bill, if it was a Rugaru wouldn't it have killed more people by now?" says Chase.

I drop down and land in front of them, my sawed off shotgun shoved in their faces.

Bill reaches for his handgun.

"Don't," I command. "Put your hands up over your head, and drop to your knees."

They both comply.

"It most definitely _was_ a Rugaru, gentleman. I've already taken care of it."

"Don't you know it's rude to butt in on another groups hunt?" snaps Bill, irritated that I have the drop on them.

"My bad. It's just you both were taking so long, and I didn't want any more innocents to die because of your incompetence. Anyway, I didn't come here to take your hunt. _I came hear hunting for you_."

"Why?" Bill says.

"Because there is something I want, and I believe you can help me find it." I pull the hammer back on my shotgun.

"W-what would that be?" Stutters Chase, the blonde one.

"Mordecai."

I fasten them together, facing away from each other.

"Now listen, I am _really_ very tired gentlemen. I've been searching for Dean Winchester for months," I lie " and the whole _'torture to extract information'_ thing just isn't fun anymore. So let me cut to the chase. Mordecai has them, and I want to know where he is."

"The Winchesters? Holy hell _you're_ the half blood!" Bill exclaims.

I exhale. "Yes. That's me. Now, are you going to tell me what I need to know?"

"I'm not telling you anything. Mordecai would ki-"

I pull the trigger, and Bills body falls limp.

"How 'bout you _blondie_?" I ask.

"Bill!" He yelps. "Look, I'll give you the address, just please leave me _alone_. It's 105 Lighthouse Drive, in Detroit."

I kick Bill hard. "Wake up."

"Am I dead?!" He asks stupidly.

"No, it was just a bean bag round. It knocked the breath out of you is all. I'm not an _actual_ monster." I say. "I'll send the cops to untie you after I get out of here."

"Wait." Bill says. "Mordecai has Dean Winchester?"

"Yes." I say flatly.

"Why?" He asks.

"Bait. For me."

"We had heard Mordecai had it out for you, but I can't believe he took it this far." Chase says.

"_Please_," Bill replies. "He has had it out for the Winchester boys ever since they turned down his offer. The Hybrid was the perfect excuse for him to make them pay."

"He hates us too now," Chase adds sullenly. "Ever since we left."

"Oh. That makes sense." I realize. "He must have thought I would torture and kill you for the info on Dean. That's why he sent me to you. Unfortunately for him I'm not an asshole."

"Let us help you." Bill says. "I'm sick and tired of running from him."

Sam drops down from the wall behind me.

"You really want to go up against Mordecai?" He asks.

"SAM!" They both cry out with joy.

"Yes." Chase confirms. "You boys were right about him. He is no good."

"Excellent" Sam smiles, and cuts the rope I have them bound with.

I can't help but feel a little bad about shooting Bill, but only a little.

...

Back at the hotel, we pack up our duffels, and prepare to drive to Detroit.

There is a knock on the door, and I stroll over to answer it.

Bill and Chase stand at the door, geared up and ready to go.

"Let's go get Dean." Chase says.

For a seasoned hunter, he seems really bright eyed and innocent.

"Let's do this." I say, resolutely.

...

The drive to Detroit is a long one. Bill and Chase follow closely in their old beat up Jeep.

I lean back and try to catch a few before we reach Detroit, with no luck. All I can think about is how alone Dean probably feels right now, and that makes me really mad.

I know Sam misses Dean too, because he cranks up AC/DC.

"How are you doing with all this?" I ask him.

"I'm worried about Dean. Mordecai has no pity on those who 'harbor monsters'. I know he isn't treating Dean as a guest." he replies, eyebrows furrowed.

"He _will_ pay for this." I promise.

"I'm worried about you too. You are focusing all the pain you feel into a pretty frightening rage. You still have your power. " He says. "Please be careful."

"As far as I'm concerned, Mordecai is as big a monster as any other. He took an innocent life, _our_ _child's_ life, and I'm _going_ to make him pay."

Sam doesn't argue.

...

We arrive at the Bright-Water Motel just after midnight. We all walk into the room to discuss a plan.

It doesn't take long for me to recognize the brilliance of Mordecai's "come get me" strategy. His bunker is nearly impenetrable. According to Bill, it is a giant concrete building full of mazes and secret rooms. Dean could be anywhere inside.

I prefer the direct approach.

Just walk in and trade myself for Dean, but Sam does not agree.

"We don't even know if he has Dean there." I argue. "Deans best bet is if I go in willingly. I have my powers, and as hesitant as I am to use them, I _will_ if it comes to getting back to you. Mordecai really doesn't know who he is dealing with. Dean's life could be in danger, and I don't think we should waste another minute."

Sam finally concedes with my promise to use my powers if necessary.

...

The next morning we arrive in front of Mordecai's bunker. I don't sneak around. Instead I walk strait for the door, shoulders back.

The clouds hang low, as though they want a good seat for the confrontation.

Sam, Chase, and Bill follow behind me, toting an impressive arsenal.

The gate opens and we walk through.

We approach the door of the bunker. A large angry looking hunter stands in the doorway.

"I'm here for Dean Winchester." I state.

The man steps back, and we pass. Five more hunters come from a room and join the first just inside the hallway to follow us inward.

I am jittery, and I feel like blasting them to smithereens, but I hold back. We haven't seen Dean yet.

Suddenly the hall opens up into an open courtyard. In the middle stands a man. He is tall and thick, and has a missing eye.

"_Spot the villain_." I say under my breath.

Suddenly I notice another man tied in a chair next to him. He has a burlap sack over his head. He is hanging from his bonds lifelessly.

"Dean!" Sam cries, and tries to run toward him.

Within a split second ten hunters of various size and gender move in, blocking us from Dean.

"Mordecai!" I say. My voice sounds different, _darker_. "I am not making _any_ deal with you, unless you let Sam go to Dean. I want to make sure you haven't already killed him."

Mordecai flicks his hand, and the hunters split their ranks.

Sam runs through them without hesitation. He kneels before Dean's limp form, and pulls the cover off his head.

Suddenly Dean comes I life. "Son of a bitch, you wait until my family gets ahold of you!"

"Easy Dean, it's me, it's Sam." He puts his hands on Dean's shoulders and looks him in his eyes. "You ok man?"

"Just a little sore. I'm fine though, I knew you'd come." He tries to smile.

I, however, am not smiling. He looks like hell. His face is covered in bruises and cuts. There is a huge gash from his ear to his collar bone.

"What do you _want_ Mordecai?"I demand.

"Mac?!" Dean suddenly shouts. "SHE CAN'T BE HERE! RUN MAC! IT'S NOT SAFE!"

"**What do you want**?" I repeat myself, over the noise of Dean's frantic warning.

"Your head on a stake. I must admit you have been the hardest monster I've ever had to trap." Mordecai hisses.

"You haven't trapped me yet." I point out. "But let them go, and I will come willingly."

"_Let them leave_." Mordecai commands.

"I want to see them drive away." I say.

I can tell Mordecai does not like this. He hadn't intended to let them go free. I concentrate my power, and the bunker begins to quake.

"Let us walk the gentlemen out then." He says, trying to sound calm.

With that, we all make our way to the gate. The Impala sits just outside the entrance, ready and waiting. Chase, Bill, and Sam have to drag Dean to the Impala.

"WE CAN'T LEAVE MAC! IT'S A TRAP!" he cries.

Sam looks worried, as he slams the car door. Bill and Chase are in the back, holding Dean down, with trouble.

I turn around and face Mordecai. "Now then, you mentioned something about my head on a stake?"

He looks surprised that I didn't bolt as soon as he was gone. "Follow me."

We walk back to the courtyard, and through double metal doors in the back.

We are now in circular room. Several lines run through the room, drawing out the shape of a pentagram. There are many strange markings that run along the lines.

At each point of the pentagram stands a man, robed in black.

"Wow, Mordecai uses warlocks now? _Hypocrite much_?" I sneer.

"The greater good." Mordecai states.

"_Whatever_. Let's just get this over with." I sigh, and turn to him.

Suddenly the warlocks begin to chant. I am lifted into the air, and toward an altar.

"This seems vaguely familiar." I yawn. "I'm bored. _Let's play a new game_."

I snap my fingers, and suddenly the walls of the bunker turn to dust.

"You can't lock a hybrids powers up twice." I point out.

I am now hovering cross-legged in the air over the altar.

"We do not _mean_ to lock them up. We mean to destroy them once and for all." He says.

"Oh, sweet, then I'm in." I reply.

If Sam were here he would flip his shit.

I lie back down, and relinquish myself to the warlocks.

They begin to chant, and I feel like my whole body is on fire. The pain is intense, but I hold as still as possible.

After a few minutes the burning stops.

The warlocks also stop.

"It is done." Says one of the warlocks.

"Good. Destroy them." Mordecai points at the warlocks.

"YOU PROMISED!" screeches the warlock.

I watch without emotion, as ten of the hunters appear, each holding a protection charm, and slit the warlocks throats.

"_Shocker_." I say.

I stretch my fingers out, testing my humanity. I try to melt the altar. Nothing.

All sixteen of the hunters surround Mordecai and me. It puts me in mind of a fistfight I got into in high school. I half expect them to start chanting. "_Fight, fight, fight,_"

I smile, as Mordecai comes for me, knife drawn.

Then I pull my revolvers out of my concealed holsters, and point them at his chest.

"Here's you're problem, asshole." I say. "You were so focused on my demonic powers, you underestimated me. You didn't even check me for weapons. I am a hunter first and foremost, _**and a damn good one**_."

I hear a motor rev on my left. I look, and see the Impala, Sam at the wheel, as it comes full speed at the gate.

'Baby' breaks through with no problem, and comes to a screeching halt outside the recently demolished bunker walls. All four men jump out, and head for the sixteen hunters that surround us. As they begin to fight, I focus my attention back on Mordecai.

"You took something from me, Mordecai. I'm gonna make you pay."

I holster my guns, and let every ounce of hatred and despair that I have been holding back for months coarse through my veins.

He runs at me, but I dodge, and kick him in the back.

You would think that losing my powers would make me slower, less strong. But the opposite seems to be true.

I hadn't realized it until just now, but I have had to hold back all of my life, trying to prevent my powers from escaping.

Now, I had no hesitation.

Rain starts to fall heavily, making it difficult to see.

Mordecai swings at my throat with his knife. I back up just enough that it tickles.

"Missed bitch." I shout.

"Mac!" I hear Sam say. I kick Mordecai in the gut and look over at Sam, just in time to see my lucky poker flying out of his hand.

I catch it and twirl it professionally.

"Thanks!" I grin.

Mordecai slashes his knife at me again, and this time I knock it out of his hand tidily with my poker.

Dean catches the flying knife and yells "Thanks Mac!" He uses it to stab an assailant in the gut.

I exhale sharply as Mordecai jabs me with his enormous fist, flinging me backward. I come to a skidding stop, already crouched and ready to spring.

I hurdle toward him, and hook him on the left side of his head, and then I rebound, landing upright.

"CHASE!" I hear. I look to my left, and see Bill standing over a lifeless Chase, trying to protect him from further harm.

Dean and Sam are back to back, taking out anything that comes at them.

I look back as Mordecai swings at my head, but I am too fast. I dodge him, and throw my poker around the back of his neck. I grab the other side of the poker, and pull his head forward, kneeing him in the face with all my might.

He stumbles forward and lands on his hands and knees before me.

I pull my revolver out, and hold it to his head.

"This world is not black and white, Mordecai. There are _good_ monsters, and _bad_ people. And _you_ are a bad person."

I blink the rain out of my eyes and pull the trigger.

…

Sam and Dean pick up Chase's body with care, and lay him on the top of a large pyre base of sticks.

Sam hands Bill a lit torch, and steps back.

"I didn't know Chase for very long," I start, "but in the short time that I did, I saw goodness in his heart. May his spirit rest in peace."

"Chase was a good man and a good friend. He always looked out for his friends. Enjoy heaven buddy." Dean adds, barely able to keep his voice from breaking.

Sam speaks next. "I am going to miss you Chase. You have always been one of the good ones."

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." Bill finishes, tears streaming down his face. "You have been my best friend since you pulled my drunk ass out of the gutter, when I lost my wife to that demon. You've saved my life a million times since then. I'm sorry I couldn't return the favor."

He lights the pyre, and the sparks rise up to the clear night sky. Dean puts his hand on Bill's shoulder, and Sam holds me tight.


	12. The Winchesters Three

I stand just outside the chapel door.

My palms are sweating, and I am pretty sure I'm gonna puke.

The dress I'm wearing is an exact replica of the one I wore the first time Sam told me he loved me, except less torn and bloody.

Oh, and also, it's white, which I'm told is what a bride is supposed to wear. I added and emerald green ribbon around the waste, as protest to the overwhelming amount of white.

I am not wearing shoes. Dean tried to talk me into stilettos, but I'm pretty sure he just wanted me to fall down.

Jerk face.

"You could still run," he suggests mockingly, holding out his arm for me to take.

"Nope. I'm ready."

The wedding march begins to play, and two men open the church doors wide.

Dean begins to walk me down the isle, and I look around at all my friends.

Not a _huge_ group, admittedly, but all wonderful people.

All the hunters we had met along the way, and a lot of the people we had saved, all stood looking at me.

My maid of honor, Maria, stands in front of the altar. We met on a hunt, and have been close ever since. I don't get to see her often, she hunts mostly on the west coast, but she made the long trip back to Lebanon to be here.

Castiel is standing in the middle, wearing a black suit, which differs from his usual tan trench coat, and that makes me smile.

He became an ordained minister, just so he could perform the ceremony.

Then my eyes lock onto Sam, and nothing else matters. He stands strait and tall, and the look on his face is pure joy. His eyes are shining with happy tears.

I feel like punching Dean for walking so slow.

"Who gives this woman to be wed?" Cas asks, as we approach the altar.

"Her favorite brother." Dean points to himself with his thumb.

Cas takes my hand and places it into Sam's. After all this time, my stomach still flutters when he touches me.

Dean takes his place at Sam's side, the obvious best man.

Cas says the opening words. He talks about the beauty of marriage, and the commitment that it requires.

Then we begin our vows.

"Sam," I begin, "before you found me, I was all alone. An orphan. My life was full of danger, and I had no-one to save me. I hade no purpose in this life, I drifted aimlessly from one hunt to the next. I had no place to rest my head, no dwelling to call my own.

And then, you found me.

You became my family,

You became my savior,

You became my purpose,

You became my home.

Sam you are my everything.

I love you, and I want to spend eternity with you."

As I finish, tears spill from Sam's eyes onto his cheeks.

"Mackenzie," he replies, "When I was young, all I wanted was a home, with a wife and kids. As I got older I lost hope. The life I was born into, the life I choose to live, made it so dangerous to love. Everyone that I let myself get close to was hurt, one way or another. I had finally accepted the fact that my life was hunting, and nothing more. Then I met you. Within the first five minutes of knowing you, I watched you send a ghost running. At that moment, a spark ignited in me: Maybe, just maybe, it was possible. The more I got to know you, the more that spark grew. You are such a beautiful person. Despite the hell you have been through, you never turned. You always did the right thing. You are the most amazing person I know, and I know for a fact that without you, I am lost. Please never leave me, and I promise I will never leave you. I love you, and I'm so glad I found you."

Now it is my turn to cry. Sam takes my face in his hands, and wipes my tears away with his thumbs.

Then Cas says:

"Mackenzie Tyler, do you take Sam Winchester to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Absolutely" I say.

"Sam Winchester, do you take Mackenzie Tyler to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"Yes" He beams.

"Then you may kiss the bride." Cas finishes.

I throw my arms around his neck, and he lifts me up by my waist.

We kiss, maybe a little to long.

Dean's whistles and the rest of our friends clap and shout.

"Ladies and Gentlemen may I present to you: Mr. and Mrs. Sam Winchester!" Cas smiles.

Sam takes my hand and leads me back down the isle, and through the double doors.

Crowley stands just outside the boundaries of the church, carefully avoiding the hallowed ground, and unceremoniously chucks rice at me.

"Christo" I say, and laugh as he cringes.

...

Back at the bunker, I peel off my wedding dress and change into blue jeans and a tank top. We are going to be traveling, and I sure as hell don't want to wear that getup.

Sam watches me from the bed.

"What?" I say.

"Just watching my wife do stuff." He smiles.

"Well maybe my husband wouldn't mind dragging this suitcase out to out car for me?"

"Of course," he smiles, and jumps off the bed.

He carries the suitcases out of the room and I follow.

Dean is standing outside of our room pouting.

"We will only be gone a couple weeks." I smile. "Cheer up."

"But you get to go to the Grand Canyon, and I have to sit here and twiddle my thumbs."

"Oh you can drop the act. I know for a fact that as soon as we pull out of here you are gonna party."

"Duh." He agrees.

"You comin'?" Sam asks excitedly.

"Yes." I smile.

...

We are on our way, music blasting and windows down.

My spirits soar high as the fluffy white clouds, and Sam seems just as happy.

When we arrive at our room, I walk out onto the balcony and look over the canyon. Sam walks up behind me and slides his arms around my waist. He kisses me on the back of my neck, and I get all fuzzy inside.

I turn to him, and kiss his bare chest.

He picks me up and carries me back inside the room, and to the bed.

I breathe heavily as he pulls off my shirt, and I unbutton his pants. I run my fingers along the waste line of his boxers, and he shivers. I push him back on the bed and graze his torso with my lips. He gasps and pulls me on top of him, then he sits up so that I'm straddling him. He reaches behind me and unsnaps my bra deftly. I inhale deeply as he draws me in close to him. I put my arms around him, and kiss him enthusiastically.

He lays me on my back, and pulls my jeans off. I have on a black lace thong underneath, which he manages to remove with his teeth.

"It's nice to know it's no longer _technically_ being blasphemous when we do this, now that we're married and all." I laugh.

"Oh I don't know... It's probably still going to get really blasphemous. You curse a lot when we..."

"Fuuuuck!" I groan, as he moves his head between my legs.

"Precisely." He smiles.

...

I wake up the next morning tangled up in the sheets.

"Need...pants..." I say.

Sam is up bright and early, as usual.

"Here" he smiles, and hands me a fresh pair from my suitcase. "Coffee?"

"You...are a god." I say, taking the Styrofoam cup out of his hands.

We were up most of the night...being blasphemous, and I feel bone dead tired.

"What time is it?" I ask groggily.

"Six-thirty" he answers.

"Why?" I reply.

"Well, time is based off of the position of the sun, so I guess the reason that it is six thirty is because the sun is-"I smack him hard with a pillow.

"Why are we awake at six thirty in the morning?!" I demand.

He laughs and places the pillow back on the bed neatly. "Because I want to watch the sunrise with my new wife."

I place my coffee on the nightstand, fall face forward onto the bed, and begin mock snoring.

"Haha very funny" he tosses a blanket over my shoulders and picks me up out of the bed. He carries me onto the balcony, and sits on a patio chair, still holding me in his arms.

I admit it is totally worth it as I watch the sun break over the horizon. It shines off of Sam's face, and he really does look like a god.

I sigh contentedly and rest my head on his shoulder.

...

Chapter Twelve, Part two

**Dean:**

I lay on the couch upside down, feet dangling off the back, and play air drums to AC/DC.

After the song ends, I sit up.

"Boooooooooored" I groan.

Mac and Sam have only been gone two days, but I hadn't realized how much I rely on them for basic entertainment.

Now they're off in Arizona makin' it and I'm stuck in this musty old bunker, bouncing off the walls.

Lame.

I grab the remote and start flipping through channels, but nothing's on so I give up and turn it off.

Suddenly there is a knock on the door. I get up to answer it, but nearly wipe out from the 'gettin up to fast' dizzies.

I finally reach the door to find Cas waiting.

"Hey Cas! Wanna go to a bar?" I ask before he is able to speak.

"Get Sam and Mackenzie," he replies. "I have a case for you all."

"They're still in Arizona... Do you have any actual concept of time?"

I say.

"Not really" he responds.

"I could call them..." I say.

"No, no… they are probably consummating their marriage." Cas smiles. "I'll be your hunting buddy this time."

"Cas don't say hunting buddy. It's weird. "

"You know what I mean." He says.

"Well I got nothing going on," I say "So I'm in."

I grab my duffel and head out to baby. I pat her fondly before getting in.

Cas slides in the passenger seat and shuts the door.

"Don't you want to know what we are hunting?" He says.

"Sure."

"So there has been a string of mysterious deaths in Colorado Springs, Colorado, and-"

"You don't have to say the Colorado at the end. Everyone knows Colorado Springs is in Colorado." I interrupt.

"Grouchy" he replies. "Anyway, I checked around and there is a connection. All the houses being hit were built by the same contractor."

"Good work Cas" I say, impressed that he put that together on his own. "How'd the contractor die?"

"Oh he isn't dead." Cas smiles. "That's the confusing part."

"How do you know he just isn't a serial killer then?" I ask.

"Well unless he is a serial killer that somehow knows how to liquefy someone's innards…"

"Ahh. Well then lets go to Colorado Springs." I say.

…

When we arrive, I walk into the hotel room with Cas. I feel a distinct since of loneliness because Sam and Mac aren't here.

Mostly because the nerds would have already researched the shit out of this, and know the next step. As it stands now, I have to be the brains of this outfit. Cas still isn't great with computers.

_Really really_ Lame.

I open my laptop, and stare at the screen blankly. "Forget this, I'm calling the geek squad."

I pick up my phone, and dial Sam.

"Dean?" He answers breathlessly. "Everything ok?"

"I'm on a hunt, and I need you to check something out for me. Your laptop handy?"

"Isn't yours?" he replies, "I'm kind of…busy."

"You two are totally banging aren't you?" I say.

"Well this is our honeymoon…" He answers.

"Gimme the phone," I hear Mac say in the background. "Dean?"

"Yes."

"No more calling unless it is an actual emergency. Got it?" she asks.

"You're bossy." I say.

"Yes. Yes I am." She replies. "Now, you're a big boy, and you can do your own research. We are very very very busy."

I hear her giggle as she hangs up.

SUPER LAME.

I google the name of the contractor who built all the houses.

"It says here that he specializes in re-cycling from demolished houses. He reuses anything he can salvage. We need to talk to him. See what houses he used."

"See that wasn't so hard was it?" Cas asks.

"Don't make me punch you."

…

We walk up to a fancy office, the name on the door reads: Tyler Collins, HOUSE RECYCLING PROGRAM.

"Agent Cain, FBI, this is my partner Agent Archer." I flash my badge at a receptionist. "I need to speak to ."

"One moment." She says, looking me over like a piece of meat.

Ick.

Within a few minutes beckons Cas and I into his office.

He looks incredibly nervous. "I've already spoken to the local police about this case. Look, I know I built these peoples houses, but I swear I had nothing to do with their killings."

"We are just here for general information." I assure him. "We need to know whose demolished house you used in all these structures."

"Well, we used several different houses in the construction, but only one house was used in all the victims buildings."

"We are going to need any information you have on the previous owners, and the history of the house." I say.

"But there is no way that the previous owners are involved," he replies, "because they are dead. They were murdered in their house, that's how we ended up with it. No-one wanted to live in that house, so it was donated to us to tear apart and recycle."

"I understand. I'll still need the info though." I state.

"Yes sir." He walks back to a file cabinet and ruffles around for a moment, then he hands me a manila file folder.

"Thank you for your cooperation." I say, and we walk out of the office.

…

When we get back to the hotel room, I lie out all the information on the table, and read through it.

"So apparently the Murphy's were a good old fashioned suburban couple. They were killed during a robbery gone wrong. It has to be their spirits haunting the different buildings that their house became part of." I observe.

"Yes." Cas adds.

"Super helpful did I bring you along?" I sigh.

"For moral support, and because I am pretty kickass."

"Okay true." I consent. "It looks like there were seven houses built using parts of the murder house. There has already been six killings…I guess our next step is pretty obvious."

"To house number seven?" He asks.

"Yep."

…

That night I stake out house number seven, and Cas finds the Murphy's bones to salt and burn.

I wait and watch, trying not to fall asleep, when all of a sudden I see the porch light flickering.

"Shit" I say, as I grab my rock-salt shotgun.

I walk around to the side of the house, and find an unlocked window. After I shimmy it open, I climb through, and pull out me EMF detector. It beeps gently, spiking a little hear and there. The lights do not flicker anymore, and I am starting to think that it may have just been a normal electrical flicker the first time. I walk toward the kitchen, when all of a sudden the world goes black.

…

"Oughhhh…" I say as my eyes blink open. I look down at my wrists, and see that I am attached to a chair with purple fuzzy handcuffs. "What the hell?"

"I think I am the one who should be asking that question." Says a lady voice.

As my vision comes to focus, I see an immaculate black haired angel standing before me. On second thought maybe not an angel. Angels kind of suck.

Either way she is gorgeous. She has on a black nightie, with a pink robe over it, and she is holding a-

"Oh my god did you hit me with a frying pan?!" I ask.

"Did you break in through my window and beep conspicuously around my house?" she replies.

"Yes." I admit.

"Then yeah, I did." She states without remorse. "So did you find whatever you were looking for?"

"No. I didn't. But listen, this house is dangerous, you need to get out." I say.

"MMMMno." She replies. "What I will do is call the cops."

Suddenly the lights flicker in earnest, and my EMF detector squeals.

"SHIT, you gotta let me go lady." I shout.

"NO, what is that stinking noise?!" She barks back.

"Ok I know this sounds crazy, but its an EMF detector. It lets you know when something paranormal is about to go down, and believe me, it IS about to go down!" I promise.

"O my god you aren't lying." She says.

"No?" I reply.

"Then you must be nuts." She concludes.

"A little but that's not the point." I say.

Suddenly there is a steep temperature drop in the room.

"That skillet of yours wouldn't happen to be iron would it?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"Keep it handy." I order. "And you should really uncuff me."

"No."

The Murphys make their appearance in the kitchen doorway, and they look pretty mad about being dead.

"You sure you don't want to let me loose?" I say again.

"I'm rethinking it right about now..." She admits, as she riffles through her pockets for the key.

The Murphy's move toward us in unison, and I sigh. I yank hard, snapping the handcuff chains in half.

"Hey!" She says.

I reach over onto the counter and grab my shotgun.

"What's your name?" I ask, as I cock the gun and blast a hole through .

"Duck!" She shouts.

"Duck is a weird name..." I say.

I realize just in time she meant I needed to duck.

I drop as she whacks with her frying pan.

The ghostly couple is abated for the moment.

"My name is Tyranny Rae Lewis," she says. "What's yours?"

"Dean Winchester" I say, as I dig through her cabinets looking for salt.

"Don't you have any salt?!" I ask.

"Salt is unhealthy." She states matter-of-factly.

"Not in this case it isn't." I reply.

"There might be some in the back there." She points to a cabinet on my right.

I reach in the back and find an unopened tiny box of rock salt.

"Who doesn't use salt?" I ask incredulously.

"Healthy people" she sasses.

I pour the salt out, forming a small circle around Tyranny and I. We have to stand pretty close to both fit.

Don't leave this circle." I look down at her and command.

"Ok" she says.

The Murphy's prowel around the circle like rabid wolves, howling with rage.

"I don't have time for this nonsense," she complains. "I have a deposition tomorrow."

"Lawyer? Hot." I raise my eyebrows.

She gives me a mean look, and raises the skillet between our faces.

"Any time now Cas..." I say.

Suddenly the Murphy's burst into flame, and dissolve into the hardwood floor.

I heave a sigh of releif and step outside of the circle.

"What just happened?" Tyranny asks shakily.

"Well, you bought a house with recycled parts, some of which were haunted by that lovely ghost couple. My buddy Cas salted and burned their bones, that's why they are gone now." I explain.

"G-ghosts are real." She states, trying to come to terms with the revelation.

"And werewolves and vampires, and Bigfoot..." I add.

"Bigfoot?" She says.

"Well it's not been proven, but he's real dammit." I joke. She laughs nervously.

"In all seriousness," I add "buy some damn salt."

"Buy some? Try 'fill my walls with it'." She says.

I smile at her, then hold out my furrily clad wrists.

"Nice cuffs." I smile. "Do you mind?"

She turns red, and fishes the key out of her pocket.

She takes my wrist in her hand, and begins to unlock the cuffs. As soon as her skin touches mine, a million sparks explode inside my head.

The last cuff falls to the ground, and she looks up at me, with her big blue eyes.

Suddenly she puts her hands on the back of my neck, and pulls me down to kiss me.

I grab her waste, and lift her up. She wraps he legs around my hips, and continues to kiss me. I walk toward her couch, and lay her down on it. She runs her hands down my back, and grabs the bottom of my shirt, pulling it over my head. I slide her robe off, and throw it on the chair across the room.

Then she stands up, and guides me toward her bedroom.

She pushes me back on the bed, and climbs on top of me, straddling my lap.

"Holy hell" I say breathlessly.

She reaches down and unbuttons my pants, and I sit up.

I run my hands under her nighty and up her back, pulling the gown over her head.

I stare at her naked form in awe. She really is flawless.

I flip her over on her back and lean over her, and we kiss passionately. She kisses my collarbones and I groan.

I brush my lips down her neck and stop at her chest, causing her to arch her back.

I stop for a moment, and grab my phone out of my back pocket.

She nibbles my neck, making me jump as I text Cas:

_Head back to the hotel. Meet you there in the morning_.

...

I wake up in the morning, and momentarily forget where I am. I look over to my left and see Tyranny sleeping peacefully, and everything comes flooding back.

Wow.

"Tyranny?" I whisper.

"Hmmm?" She says and looks up at my face. I guess she momentarily forgets about last night too, because she screams and falls out of her bed.

"Owww" she says, and peeks back over the bed. "Ok so last night wasn't a dream?"

"Nope." I reply.

"Well then how does one kill a werewolf?" She asks, hopping back on the bed, and sitting cross-legged.

"What?"

"Well, I just found out that paranormal stuff is real, and I want to know how to protect myself." She replies. "So how do I kill a werewolf?"

"I tell you what, let me take you to breakfast, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"Deal." She smiles, and jumps out of bed to get dressed.

...

We walk along the sidewalk, each holding a much-needed cup of coffee.

"Don't you have a deposition or something today, Tyranny?"

I ask.

"Yeah right, like I can do lawyer stuff today." She says. "And by the way, call me Rae."

I smile. "Ok."

"So?" She says. "How _do_ you kill a werewolf?"

"Silver bullet" I smile.

"Do you kill all the monsters the way the legends say?" She asks.

"Not all of them." I admit.

We sit on a park bench for hours. She drills me about monsters, and how to kill them, and I answer.

Suddenly Cas appears on the edge of the bench, nearly giving Rae a heart attack.

"_What is he_?!" She asks, after I calm her down.

"I am an angel of The Lord" Cas replies.

"Wait, angels are real too?!" She asks incredulously.

"Yep." I reply.

"Wow. This is a lot to take in..." she says.

"You are handling it pretty damn well." I encourage.

"I am wanted elsewhere Dean, are my services needed any longer?" Cas asks.

"Nope", I grin. "You did good, the Murphy's are long gone. Thanks buddy."

"You are welcome" he smiles, and vanishes.

"So you...what, hunt monsters, and hang out with angels?" She asks.

"Pretty much. My brother, sister-in-law and I hunt. They are away on their honeymoon, so I could stick around a while longer...if you want."

"I do." She smiles

...

I stand outside of Rae's door, clutching my duffel bag, wondering how it has been a week and a half already.

"I don't want you to go." She says, her big blue eyes misty with tears.

"I have to." I reply, "My family will be home tomorrow, and..."

"I know. Sorry." She says. "It's just that the thought of being alone again, after all I've found out...it's kind of scary. And…I'm really going to miss you."

"You could come with me!" I blurt out. "I mean people need lawyers in Lebanon too..."

"I...really?" She asks.

"Yeah." I say. "We live in a huge bunker. You could have your own room, and you can still practice law, and..."

"This is crazy..." she says, then she throws her arms around my neck, and kisses me enthusiastically. "I'm in!"


	13. New Girl

"Mac, wake up, we're here." Sam pokes me in the shoulder.

I stretch and yawn. I look at our bunker fondly. Arizona was pure heaven, two whole weeks with no hunting, and no distractions. But I missed this place too, and after the long trip back, I am excited to finally be home.

I grab my backpack, and walk toward the trunk to get my suitcase, but Sam has already taken care of it.

"Thanks," I smile.

Once we get inside, I head to my old room, out of habit, to take a long shower.

I walk through the door, and am greeted by a stranger.

My reflexes kick in, stranger equals threat. My instincts take over, and within seconds I have her bent over the bed, in a submission hold.

"_DEAN_?" she shouts frantically.

Dean rushes in the room, closely followed by Sam.

"OH COME ON!" he says. He lifts me off of the girl, and hands me off to Sam, who holds me a few inches off the ground by my shoulders, until I calm down.

Dean walks back over to the bed, and helps the startled woman up.

"You ok?" he asks her.

"Yeah I'm fine," she replies shakily.

"_Jeezus_ Mac, you've been home five minutes, and you already tried to break my girlfriend." Dean says.

"We were only gone two weeks, and you already found a girlfriend you are comfortable enough with show our super secret bunker?!" I retort.

"Oh come on its not _super secret_." He argues.

"It's kind of super secret…" Sam backs me up.

"Well Sam only knew you for, _what_, fourteen hours, before he invited you to move in with us?" Dean points out.

"_Touché_" Sam says.

"Wait…_she moved in_?" I ask.

"I am going to hop in the shower so you guys can talk in private." The new chick scoots uncomfortably out of the room.

"SO… new girlfriend?" Sam smiles.

"Wait, you're not pissed?" Dean asks, surprised.

"No way. I'm thrilled for you." He replies.

"Ok," I insert, "Can we put the congratulations on hold for a sec? Am I the only one here who thinks this is a little _sudden_? Is she a hunter? How did you meet her? Did you invite her to move in, or did she follow you home? How do you know she isn't-"

Sam puts his hand over my mouth so Dean can talk.

"Well I figured, now that you're married and all, you would be moving into Sam's room…and that leaves an empty room…" Dean looks at me forlornly, "Mac, its been a really long time since I've liked someone this much… please just give her a chance?"

I lick Sam's hand, and he removes it from my mouth.

"_OH MY GOD OK_!" I give in. "You can keep her. But you have to feed her, and clean up her messes, and-"

"Bathe her?!" Dean wiggles his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes and grin, as he grabs me in a bear hug. "Thanks Mac."

…

Sam hops in the shower, while Dean recounts how he met Rae, and I fry up some burgers.

"Hey Rae, are you hungry?" he says suddenly

I look up as she walks in. She is wearing a tight black dress, and high-heeled shoes

'_Seriously_?' I think.

I shuffle uncomfortably, and look down at my ratty jeans and converses. I should _really_ buy some new clothes.

I shake that thought out of my head, after remembering that I don't like clothes shopping…or dresses…or heels…

I finish the patties and slide them onto a plate.

"Burgers are up!" I smile.

Dean and I dig in. I glance over at Rae, who is picking at her bun uncomfortably.

"You not hungry?" I ask her.

"Oh, no, it's ok…I just don't eat a lot of junk food." She explains.

"Oh ok, neither does Sam." I reply.

I get up, walk over to the refrigerator, and pull out an assortment of veggies.

"Here you go! Fresh off the farm!" I smile.

"Thank you!" She says. "I have no idea how you guys stay so fit after putting all that junk in your system."

I look at her pointedly, before taking a huge bite out of my burger. "I stay fit by killing things that piss me off."

She grows quiet, stuffing a fork full of salad into her mouth.

Sam walks in, and makes his way over to me.

"Looks great!" he smiles, and bends down to kiss me gently on the forehead, then whispers, "Be nice"

I scowl at him, and take another bite of burger.

We finish eating, and all disburse to our rooms.

After a hot shower, I climb into bed with Sam. I roll on top of him, resting my arms on his chest.

"Its _weird_ having someone new in the house." I say.

"Well you seem to be handling it with grace." He says sarcastically.

"I don't like to share." I admit.

…

I wake up the next morning, and roll myself out of bed. I walk into the bathroom, and immediately regret going to bed with wet hair. My hair is impossible at the best of times, now it has grown into a wild and ravenous beast. I grab a hair tie out of the drawer, and throw the mess up into a bun.

"Meh." I say, and walk toward the kitchen.

When I walk in, I see Sam and Dean sitting around the table, looking serious.

"No" I pre-empt.

"We haven't even said anythi-"

"NO. I know that look. You guys always look at me this way when you are going to ask me to do something that I will hate."

"We do have a favor to ask of you." Sam admits. "Rae is new to this whole world of monsters, and she is going to need to be trained. She can't be part of this family if she isn't strong enough to defend herself from our many enemies."

"K, so go ahead and train her." I say.

"We think you should do it. It'll give you both a chance to get to know each other." Dean replies.

"This is a terrible idea." I point out.

"We don't just want you to train her." Dean says. "We want you to take her on a hunt."

"I…_What_…NO!"

Sam stands up, and walks over to me. He puts his hands on my shoulders, and looks deep into my eyes. "Please? For me?"

"You _SUCK_." I resign myself to my fate, knowing there is no way I will ever tell Sam no.

...

I storm into Rae's room, and yank off her covers.

"Wake up! Get ready! We have a job!" I bark.

"Wha?" She mumbles.

"_LISTEN PRINCESS_" I shout. "If you want to make it in this family, you're gonna have to learn how to get up and go at a moments notice! LETS GO!"

I have to admit; this gig has its perks. Getting to vent my frustrations through the guise of training is pretty nice.

"You're a bully." she whines.

"You know what else is a bully? A VAMPIRE. And if I was one, you'd be dead!"

"Ok you've made your point." She sits upright, eyes still closed.

I walk over and push one finger to her forehead. She falls back over.

"Sheesh." I shake my head, run into the bathroom, wet a hand towel, and walk back over to where she lays. I wring the cold water over her head.

I laugh as she tears out of bed, and runs toward me. I lean low and let her tumble her over my back, and land hard in the floor.

"You awake now?" I ask, tears of laughter streaming down my face.

"Yes." She scowls.

"Excellent, grab your bag and let's go!" I say.

Twenty-five minutes later, she comes out of her room dragging a full size suite case.

"_Are you fucking kidding me_?" I ask.

I grab the suitcase out of her hands, dump it out on her bed, and stare in disbelief at the mess.

I storm out of the room, and come back in carrying a duffel bag.

"Condense." I command.

"Oh my god I can't fit everything in there!" She says.

"You don't need all this shit! We are hunting a poltergeist, not trying out for Mrs. America! Pack two outfits. Comfortable outfits, none of that lacy shit, and one dress suit in case we have to play FBI. They have shampoo and shit at the hotel, you don't need that."

"Oh my godddd I'm not using hotel shampoo!" She cries.

"Oh my goddddd! Toughen up pussy. Pack the shit I said and LETS GO!"

"Fine!" She shouts back.

Sam and Dean are standing in the door observing the chaos. Sam is chuckling under his breath, and Dean looks worried that I may feed Rae to a wendingo.

I finally get Rae into my car, and I turn to Sam to kiss him bye.

"Don't kill her." He smiles.

"No promises." I retort, and kiss him passionately. "I love you."

"Love you too, be safe."

...

We drive down the road, and Rae stares sullenly out the window.

After a few seconds, I get tired of the silence, and crank up the radio. Def Leppard screams out and my mood improves measurably. I catch Rae lipping the words to the song, and think she might have some good qualities yet...

After a minute she sits up and looks at me seriously. "Why don't you like me?" She asks.

"I don't...not like you. I just don't know you yet." I reply.

"You have yelled at me a lot to not, not like me..."

"Look, this world we live in isn't a game, and it isn't a beauty pageant. We help people. It's a serious job. You need to keep that duffel packed and under your bed, ready to grab it and go. Peoples lives could depend on it." I explain.

"Oh" she says. "So we're hunting a poltergeist?"

"Yep."

"They aren't _that_ dangerous right? They just cause trouble and play tricks?"

"Yeah tricks like slamming a window shut on some dudes head. Sent his brains flying like twenty feet or something. Poltergeists like to kill people, but with crazy things, like dropping anvils on your head. Believe me, it's not as cute as it is on tv."

"Oh my god! Shouldn't the boys be here then?!"

I shoot her the 'are you fucking kidding me?' look.

"I hunted alone for several years before I even met the boys, and I did just fine thanks. I can handle a poltergeist."

"Oh. So you were a hunter before you fell for Sam?"

"I've been a hunter my whole life. I hunted with my dad for most of it, but after he got killed, I was alone for a long time. Then I met Sam and everything changed."

"Oh wow. I'm so sorry about your dad. What about your mom? Doesn't she hunt?"

"My mom _was_ the hunt. Long story, but Sam is actually the one who killed her. Don't look so surprised. She was Lucifer's right hand demon, and she was hell bent on setting him free to walk the earth. She deserved to die. Besides, the only time I'd ever met her was when she killed my dad."

"Your mother...was a demon?"

"Yep. But don't worry I don't have my powers anymore. A crap load of warlocks destroyed them." I smile as I watch her get more and more confused.

Finally I stop messing with her, and tell her my story.

When I finish, she sits in silence for a few minutes, and then says: "Wow, you guys weren't kidding when you said you had a lot of enemies."

"Yes," I reply. "Which is why you need to take this shit seriously."

"Got it." She says.

We pull into the hotel, and I pay for the room. I pull my artillery box out of my trunk and inspect my options.

Rae stands back several feet looking nervous.

"There is nothing explosive in here." I point out.

I pull out my iron poker, and slide it into my belt. Then I grab my sawed off shotgun, and load it with salt rounds.

"Here" I hand it to her. She holds it gingerly, and I roll my eyes.

"So the thing about a poltergeist is that it starts out as a normal human spirit. Generally it was a human whose life and death went pretty much unnoticed. So in death, they become obsessed with getting peoples attention. That's why they use such outlandish ways of killing." I explain. "That is also why it is so hard to find the bones. If they were mostly unnoticed, the death wouldn't get much publicity, which makes it hard to track down the culprit."

"Oh!" Rae exclaims, "leave that part to me. I may not be good at the combat part yet, but I am amazing at getting information."

"Ok, I'll let you take the lead on research then." I reply.

"I'll be back in ten." She smiles, and sways out the door.

I flop back into a chair, mentally exhausted. My phone rings.

"Sam?" I answer.

"How's the trip going so far?" He queries.

"Not too awful." I admit.

"Good." He replies, "Listen, Dean and I are going on a hunt. We caught wind of a coven of vampires in Phoenix that are racking up a pretty high body count. We'll keep in touch. Love you."

"I love you too, be safe." I hang up the phone, with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

A few minutes later, Rae bounces in carrying a single manila envelope.

"What's that?" I ask.

"It is all the data on the hit and run of a homeless man. No one even knew his name." She says sadly.

"That's not a lot of data..." I say, as I pull out the one newspaper clipping.

"Exactly!" She explains. "No one knew him, or noticed him, and the police did virtually nothing to bring his murderer to justice. And look at the date!"

I look at the date of the article, exactly one month before the first killing.

"Wow I'm impressed!" I say. "That was fast."

"Like I said," she beams at my praise, "I'm good at getting information."

"So because he was homeless, he is pretty much haunting the whole town...I wonder who his next victim will be?" I say.

"My guess would be the people who were in the police station yesterday, complaining that someone kept opening and closing all the windows in their house, even though they were locked." She suggests.

"Damn you _are_ good!" I exclaim. "Did you happen to get the-"

"243 Burnham Street."

"Well, hell." I grin, and grab my keys off of the nightstand.

...

We pull up in front of the address, and park across the street.

It's dark now, and Rae seems edgy.

"Are you sure the boys will be ok hunting that coven? I have a really bad feeling about it."

"They are the best hunters I know." I say. "They've got this."

"Ok" she concedes.

"Look," I say, and point toward the house. One by one windows are slowly opening and closing, although there is no one there.

We get out of the car, and wait.

Suddenly there is a scream, and we both bolt toward the door. I wiggle the knob, but it's locked.

I back up two steps and kick the door open.

We run in, and toward the sound of the screaming.

We burst into a bedroom on the second floor, where a woman is being dragged by her feet toward an open window.

"HELP!" She screams, her eyes wide as golf balls.

I run forward, grab the woman's arm, and pull back.

"RAE! SHOOT!" I scream.

Rae is standing petrified.

"SHOOOT!" I say again.

"Shoot where?!" She snaps out of it.

"JUST ABOVE THE LEFT LEG!"

Rae steadies the gun, and pulls the trigger. We hear an unearthly screech, and then everything falls quiet.

The woman is now balled up in the floor shaking violently.

"There was supposed to be a husband too!" Rae says.

"Where is your husband?" I sit the woman up and look into her eyes.

She points toward the closet. I fling the closet door open, to find an unconscious and bloody man, hung upside down on the clothing rack.

"Call an ambulance!" I direct. Rae already has her phone out and is dialing.

We wait impatiently until we hear the sirens coming down the street, then I look the woman in the eyes. "We were never here, this was a robbery gone wrong ok?"

The woman shakes her head up and down in agreement.

"Go with the emt's, don't come back home tonight." I command.

She continues to shake her head.

Rae and I dart out the back door, and climb into the car.

"We need to find out where this dude was buried!" I say.

Rae takes her phone out, and searches any articles that might mention a place of rest.

"Here we go!" She says, then reads: "the unknown man was laid to rest in an unmarked burial plot, donated by Morris Creek Church of the Nazarene."

"Siri, find Morris Creek Church, I command."

...

We arrive within minutes. I throw open my trunk, and pull out a shovel, and a box of salt.

Rae is still clutching my shotgun for dear life, as she follows me to the unmarked grave.

"Here we go." I sigh. "I'll dig, you keep and eye out for floating anvils."

She chuckles nervously.

I dig quickly, and hit the coffin in about twenty minutes. I take out my poker to pry open the lid, when I suddenly feel dirt falling back in on my head.

"Mac?!" Rae shouts. "MOVE!"

I jump aside, just as a decent sized rock smashes into the coffin, with enough force to demolish the lid.

"Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face!" I shout at the invisible spirit. "Thanks for making my job easy!"

I jump out of the hole and reach for the rock salt.

It scoots back just out of my reach.

"_Seriously_?" I ask, exasperated.

I try twice more before losing my temper, and swinging out with my poker. I hear a hiss, as the poltergeist dodges the swing, but it gives me enough time to grab the salt.

Suddenly I am lifted up into the air, and slammed into an old oak tree.

I hear my shotgun sound, the poltergeist howls, and turns it's attention on Rae, who is sent through the air, and hurled into a headstone.

"RAE!" I shout, running toward her.

"Burn the body! I got this!" She shouts.

I stop for a second, then toss her my poker. She catches it, slashes out, and the poltergeist screeches.

I run full speed back for the grave. I pour the salt and lighter fluid over the body, and toss in a lit match.

The poltergeist gets in one more swing, knocking Rae on her ass, before he bursts into flame.

I sigh, and walk over to her, then flop down on the ground beside her.

"Owwww." She says.

"Yep." I reply, rubbing my neck.

"We make an awesome team." she points out.

"Don't go overboard." I laugh. "We did do pretty damn good though. Let's go home."

She beams at me, and I roll my eyes.


	14. God Medusa, You're Ugly

I slam the accelerator on my Charger, flinging it to 120 mph. My left hand grips the steering wheel tightly, while my right wields my revolver.

"Son of a _bitch_." I say, as a bullet pings off of the hood.

Rae is standing up in the middle of the seat, firing out of the sunroof. She ducks in just in time to avoid having her head blown off.

"God I _hate_ vampires." I hiss, and pull the trigger. My bullet finds its mark, taking out the back left tire of the '99 explorer we pursue. The SUV spins out of control, flipping several times before it screeches to a halt, upside down.

"Get the boys." I command.

I stand just outside of the window of the drivers side, waiting.

I stare coldly at the bloodied hand that grasps the top of the door, ripping it off of its hinges.

"Come on out, bastard." I invite.

He chucks the door at me, and it misses me by an inch.

"That the best you can do?!" I laugh, stalling, as he climbs out of the car.

"They aren't back here!" Rae calls.

"**WHERE ARE THEY**?!" I demand of the Vampire.

He spits in my direction, and then his head falls to the ground.

I look at his body in distaste, before repeating the procedure with the other three vamps that occupy the vehicle.

"What now?" Rae asks. "It's been four days since we've heard from them, and this coven was our only lead."

"We will just have to find a new lead then." I state, my anger strengthening my resolve.

"I'm starting to think the vamps had nothing to do with this…" Rae suggests.

"Then what?" I ask. "The only thing we know is that the boys were here, hunting a coven. If its not vampires, then I've got nothing."

"Well, we could start by finding the Impala. Wherever 'baby' is, Dean wouldn't leave her willingly. That has to be a good place to start." She says.

"You're right." I reply.

I pick up my cell, and dial the Phoenix police station. "This is officer Regina Fitzpatrick with the Arizona State Police. I need an APB on a black Chevy Impala, its been reported as stolen, and is involved in a missing persons case… Really?... I'm not far from there now, can you call them and let them know I'm coming to pick it up?...You're a life saver, thanks." I hang up.

"They have the Impala at the west side impound lot." I say. "Lets go."

…

When we arrive at the lot, a burly man in a blue jumper greets us, and takes us back to the Impala.

"Where was the car picked up?" I ask.

"Parked on the side of the interstate, half hidden in some woods. It was state forest, so we towed it." He replies.

"What mile marker?"

"140."

"Thank you sir. My partner here is gonna take this to our forensics department, we appreciate your cooperation in this matter."

"Keys weren't in it…" the man points out.

"That's why they sent me sir," I smile, and crawl up under baby's dash. After a second, the engine turns over, and she revs to life. Rae hops in the front seat and takes off.

I follow her closely, and soon we arrive at mile marker 104.

We both pull over on the side of the road, and get out.

I walk over to the impala, and pop her trunk. After a quick inventory, I determine only the katana's are missing.

"Still points toward Vampire…" I say, confused. "Lets head in."

I sling my katana over my shoulder, and start into the woods. We only make it about 100 feet into the underbrush, when Rae trips.

I walk over to help her up, and look to see what she tripped over. There, half covered in weeds, is a realistic stone statue of a woman, her face contorted into a terrified cry.

"Shit, the boys weren't prepared for this. They thought they were after vamps…"

"What? I don't like that look… it wasn't vampires? What was it?" Rae asks.

"Gorgon."

"OH my GOD is there any legend on this bloody planet _NOT_ real?!" She says, and she looks like she may be on the brink of losing her damn mind.

"Calm down. They probably just got their stupid asses turned to stone." I say.

"WHAT?!" She cries.

"If you look a gorgon in the eyes-"

"I KNOW THE DAMN LEGEND!" she screams. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY PROBABLY '_JUST'_ GOT TURNED TO STONE?!"

"Calm your tits, its an easy fix, we just have to kill the gorgon that did it, then poof, they'll be as good as new." I explain calmly.

"OH IS THAT FUCKIN _ALL_ WE HAVE TO DO?!" she continues hysterically. "IS THAT _**ALL**_?"

"You need to calm down…you're going to alert her of our very conspicuous presence…" I say again.

"NO I WILL MOTHERFUCKING _NOT_ CALM DOWN. I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS! FIRST MY BOYFRIEND GOES MISSING, AND NOW GORGONS ARE REAL, AND…AND…"

**Thwack**.

I hook her in the jaw, knocking her to her ass.

"Owwww." She whines. "What was that for?"

"You are a god damned lawyer. Compose yourself. We cannot afford hysterics like that. You turn that shit off, and when the hunt is over, you can freak out."

"Right." She says, trying to regain her calm.

"We need to run back to the cars. If this is a gorgon, there is one more thing we will need."

Once we arrive, I lean into my car, and dig through the glove box, until I pull out a mirrored pair of aviator glasses.

"Perfect." I smile.

"Yeah now you look kickass…" Rae says sarcastically.

"Nah bitch, now if she looks into my eyes, she 'gon turn herself to stone." I explain.

"That's… actually really smart." Rae admits, digging a pair of coach sunglasses out of her purse.

We re-start our hike into the woods, and this time I notice something blue on the ground.

"Hah." I exclaim. "Dean left us a peanut M&M trail."

"That's my baby." Rae smiles, "Always thinking ahead, and always thinking about food."

I laugh, my mood considerably brightened, now that we have a solid lead.

"I love the glasses idea." Rae says. "Now this hunt is pretty much foolproof."

"In no way is this plan foolproof." I point out. "Gorgons aren't only dangerous because they can turn you to stone. They also have venomous snakes for hair, and a handy set of fangs. Not to mention they are incredibly fast and strong. Don't get cocky."

"Gee thanks _Solo_." She sasses.

"A+ for the Star Wars reference." I reply.

"What if they didn't get turned to stone though…what if the gorgon-"

"SHUT _UP_ RAE." I snap. "Don't even suggest that. We won't find them dead. What we will find is a couple of modern day Adonis's, chilling in the gorgons lair."

"Ok." Rae concedes.

…

I pick up the final m&m in the trail, and look up at stoney Dean.

"Geez Dean," I chuckle "have you been working out? Your abs look rock hard."

"Really Mac?" Rae cuts in, "You think bad puns are the way to handle this situation?"

"Yeah, I mean how else should it be handled?"

I walk over to rock Sam, and kiss his stupid forehead.

The setup of the statues would suggest the boys were having somewhat of an argument, when the gorgon surprised them.

"Well, let's find this creepy bitch and deal with her." I finally say.

It doesn't take long to find the gorgons trail, she isn't exactly stealthy. She must have plowed through the woods like a bulldozer to leave this obvious of a path.

We hunker down in the weeds outside of a small cave, waiting.

I fidget and look around nervously.

"What's wrong?" Rae asks.

"I just have bad luck with hiding in weeds. Apparently poison ivy can sense me from a mile away." I explain.

After about an hour of crouching in the brush, I hear a twig snap. My attention is directed to the mouth of the cave, where the gorgon now stands, gnawing on a bone.

"HEY UGLY!" I scream. She crouches and looks at me.

I avert my eyes, and she hisses, avoiding my glasses.

She lunges toward me, flying like the wind.

I jump out of the way and swing my katana at her, slicing off three of her wiggling locks of _fucking_ **snake** hair.

She comes to a sliding stop, and bares her fangs. Then she starts back toward me, but Rae intercepts.

She takes the gorgon by surprise, and hamstrings her.

The gorgon falls to her knees, and looks at my chest with hatred. I swing my sword at her neck, but she moves aside, and sinks her fangs into my arm, ripping out a chunk of flesh.

"Son of a _Bitch_!" I scream, grabbing my arm.

I pull my poker out of my belt, and stake her head to the ground, and Rae takes off her head.

"Let's get back to the boys," I say, "they're gonna be sick and really confused."

…

We dash back through the woods at top speed, and nearly run overtop of the boys. They both are pale and sweaty, and they look like they're gonna puke.

"Easy." I say as I pull Sam's head into my lap, and brush his hair out of his face.

"Mac? What happened?" he blinks hard, trying to remember.

"You thought you were tracking a vampire, but it was a gorgon." I explain. "She caught you both by surprise, and turned your stupid asses to stone."

"Oh…Cool glasses." He smiles.

I laugh and kiss the top of his head. "Come on, lets go baby."

…

On the way back to the bunker, Sam sleeps soundly in the passenger seat.

I look in the rearview, and see Rae following in the Impala.

I think about how our family feels so complete… almost.

"Sam…" I say softly.

"Yeah Mac, what's up?" he stirs.

"Sam I want to try again."

Sam sits up in his seat, nearly smacking his head on the ceiling.

"I know that after we lost the baby," I continue, "I haven't mentioned ever trying again. But I've never really felt whole since… and-"

"No." He cuts me off. "I lost you last time. I will NOT let that happen again."

"But last time I got hurt, and as long as I stay safe in the bunker…"

"I…can't." Sam's voice breaks. "I can't risk it. I can't lose you again. I'm sorry Mac."

"Well, I am ready." I say. "Let me know when you are."

He grows quiet, and lays his head down on my lap. I stroke his hair as I drive.

…

We pull in the bunker, and go inside.

"God its good to be home." Says Dean, as he flops down on the couch. Rae collapses on top of him, and he wraps his arms around her.

"Good night guys." Sam grabs my hand, and leads me into our room.

We both get undressed, and I put on my cotton pajamas.

I crawl into bed, and into my husband's arms. He holds me tight, and kisses the top of my head.

"Oh my god, I've missed you. I know this sounds ridiculously cliché, but when you aren't with me, I feel like I'm only half a person. I can't live without you." He whispers.

I tip my head up, and kiss the bottom of his chin.

"You will never have to." I whisper.


	15. Carry On My Wayward Son

Chapter 15 part one.

Sam.

I stare at my wife in awe. Her eyes are closed, and she is slumbering peacefully. I study the freckles on her nose and cheeks. She hates them, but they are so perfect. Her long curly hair is piled on the pillow, a tangled mess.

I reach out to touch her cheek, but it is cold and clammy.

Suddenly I am standing in front of a coffin, Mac lies inside, surrounded by wild flowers. Her normally cheerful face is contorted into a serious look.

I can't breath, and I feel a scream building in my lungs.

I sit strait up, and look around, blinking hard.

I am in the bunker.

I look down at Mackenzie sleeping, and reach over to press my forefinger and middle finger firmly to her neck.

"Are you checking my pulse?" She says suddenly, causing me to jump.

"You've been asleep so long," I try to joke, "I just thought I'd check."

She sees right through my attempted banter.

She crawls across the bed until she is sitting across from me, on her knees, and takes my face into her hands.

"You had the dream again didn't you?" She asks, concerned.

"Yes." I say, and hang my head.

She pulls me into a hug, and holds me for moment, then pushes me back by my shoulders, to look into my eyes.

"I am not leaving you again Sam. I promise."

I shake my head up and down.

"I'm going to hop in the shower, if you want to join me." She offers.

"You go ahead, I'll be there in a minute." I say.

After she leaves the room, I flop back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to calm myself down.

I have had this exact same dream every night since Mac told me she wanted to try to have a baby again, and every time, it leaves me a shaking mess.

I hear the shower turn on, so I climb out of bed and walk into our bathroom.

I watch Mac's silhouette for a moment through the steamed up glass of the shower door.

When I slide the door back, and look at the suds running down her beautiful body, all fear leaves me.

I can only think about one thing now.

I slide off my clothes, and climb into the shower with her. I feel the warm water hit my back, and my muscles relax.

I slide my hands around her waist and kiss the back of her neck.

"Nice of you to join me." She whispers.

...

"Good morning losers." Dean says, as Mac and I trail into the kitchen. "You know it's noon right?"

"We know what time it is." Mac smiles mischievously. "We've been up all morning."

"Gross." Dean replies.

"So, any new leads?" I ask, scooting a chair at the kitchen table back, and sitting down.

"One." Rae replies. "sixteen kids have gone missing in Atlanta, Georgia. They are calling it a 'serial kidnapping'...its groups of kids from four different buildings. Always four kids to a building. The cops say it's like they just got up and walked out. No signs of forced entry…we are thinking a rogue changeling, or a fucked up coven…the only thing we know for sure is that this is our type of thing."

"Lets investigate then." Mac says, as she reaches into the top of the cabinet for a bowl. My eyes trail down to where her torso is peaking out from under her shirt, revealing her anti-possession tattoo. A chill runs down my spine.

…

After breakfast, we load up the Impala with every weapon and potion imaginable, trying to be all around prepared.

Mac and I climb in the back, and settle in. Dean cranks up Kansas, and takes off.

Mac leans her head out of the window, and lets the wind blow her hair out of her face. I watch, as the noon sun beats down on her face and arms. Her green eyes reflect the light, and break it into a thousand different shades and hues. I could watch her all day.

She blinks, breaking the spell.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks.

"Absolutely nothing. Just kind of letting the moment sink in. I love you."

"I love you too" She slides into the middle of the seat, and slips into my arms.

I watch as she falls asleep, and then let myself drift off.

…

I am standing outside of the bunker. There are wild flowers everywhere, yellow and white. I hear a rustling coming from the woods. I draw my weapon, and turn toward the sound. Immediately, I re-holster the gun. It's Mac. She is dressed in a long green gown, the warm summer sun pours down on her, making her hair glimmer with shades of red and brown. My heart starts to skip.

Then I see a small bundle, wrapped in white cloth. She holds it close to her heart, and the look on her face is breathtaking. I walk toward her, and she holds out the bundle, offering it to me. I look down as I reach for it, and my heart shatters and puts itself back together in a new shape in that moment.

Inside the blanket is the most beautiful child I have ever seen. His green eyes look at me, and he smiles. Time stands still, as I hold the infant. Everything in my life is perfect.

…

"GUYS WAKEY WAKEY!" Deans harsh voice snaps me awake, I look around confused. It is dark and cold.

Mac sits up, and pulls out her revolver in a single movement.

"What, where?!" She says.

"Easy! Put that thing away!" Rae says nervously.

"Oh, sorry guys." She smiles sheepishly, and puts the gun away.

My heart is still hammering from the dream. Being ripped away from it so quickly was almost painful.

"We're at the hotel. We're gonna head in. You two can start the research while we catch some sleep, since you slept the whole way here." Dean says.

"Ok," I agree. "Mac, you wanna go grab some coffee?"

"Sure." She smiles.

We walk up the sidewalk, hand-in-hand.

"You ok?" She asks. "You look upset."

"Oh, no," I reply. "I'm just still half asleep. I'll be ok as soon as I get some coffee."

"Good, you were starting to worry me." She smiles.

The bell dings as we enter the coffee shop.

"Can you grab me a vanilla latte? Two shots of espresso?" Mac asks.

"Sure thing." I reply. I walk over to the counter and order, and while I wait for our drinks, I watch her. She already has her laptop out, typing feverishly.

"Winchester?" The lady at the counter says, causing me to jump. I turn and take our cups from her hand, then walk over to the table.

"Your beverage my lady." I grin.

"Thanks" She says. "So there is nothing of any use online regarding these kidnappings. We've got nothing to go on, but a bunch of missing children. The media is treating this as an epidemic, and there aren't any first person accounts that I can find. We need to question the families, and we can't do that until tomorrow, so what do you wanna do? Because I sure as hell ain't going back to the hotel right now. You _know_ they are totally doing it."

"I have an idea." I smile.

…

We giggle like school children as we dodge the various security personnel of One Atlantic Center, floor by floor.

Finally we reach the metal door to the roof, and Mac shorts the keycard lock.

I open the door for her, gesturing her to exit. As we walk out onto the roof, she gasps.

A thousand city lights flicker and glow.

"Oh my god its beautiful!" She says breathlessly.

I walk up and put my arms around her shoulders. "Yeah, it is."

We sit on the ledge and dangle our feet off carelessly. We talk for hours, about nothing and everything.

When the conversation dies down, I hold her in my arms, and look down at her.

The mood changes, as she blinks up at me.

"We should back away from the ledge…" She suggests. "If this is about to happen."

I immediately roll back off of the edge, taking her with me.

We flop onto the roof, and laugh.

The giggling dies down, and she rolls on top of me, and kisses me passionately.

I lift her up so that we are both on our knees now, pressing our bodies together.

The wind whips her hair around, as I kiss down her throat.

She leans her head back, and breaths in sharply.

I run my hands up her back, and pull her shirt over her head. She shivers, and I notice there are chill bumps on her skin.

"Are you cold?" I ask concerned.

"Oh, these have nothing to do with the weather." She replies, and kisses me enthusiastically.

…

We lay on my jacket, out of breath. Mac keeps giggling at our brazenness.

Suddenly we hear a door slam.

"Oh shit!" she says.

I grab my jeans, and Mac manages to grab my coat, and our bags. We make it out of sight just in time to see a maintenance man finding the rest of our clothes. He looks around, and scratches his head. Then he shrugs, and gathers up the remainder of our garb.

"Oh noooo!" Mac giggles.

The man goes back inside, and we stand on the roof, with only about a third of our clothes.

I slide on my pants, and Mac wraps up in my jacket. It's a good thing she is short, my jacket comes halfway down her thighs.

"How are we going to get out of here unnoticed?" She laughs.

"I have no idea. Be ninjas I guess." I reply.

Everything goes fairly well, until we reach the third floor.

A security guard walks by, and notices our outlandish appearance.

"Excuse me, he says, this building is off limits if you aren't a tenant." He says.

"Hey I object to that." Mac sasses. "How do you know we aren't tenants?"

The security guard raises one eyebrow.

"Fiiiine, we'll go." She sighs.

We laugh, as we make our way out of the front door, the security guard following to ensure we don't sneak back in.

"Crazy kids…" He says.

"_That_, I'll take as a compliment." She winks.

…

We knock on the door of the hotel room.

"Dean, Rae…Let us in." I say.

Dean swings the door open, "Where have you two been?! We were getting ready to come looking for you!" Then he takes in our appearance. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

"Good, because we wouldn't want you to know that we just got kicked out of One Atlantic for doin' it on the roof." Mac says, and laughs at the ridiculous look on Dean's face.

"Who says married people have to be boring…" Rae grins.

"I do!" Dean replies. "Married people _have_ to be boring. That's the law of the universe, so, no more of that nonsense. Yuck."

I punch him in the shoulder.

"Well, did you at least get any research done?" He rubs his arm.

"I did some research, but I got nothing." Mac says. "We need to talk to the families."

"Then lets try to get some sleep." Rae says.

…

The next morning we all head over to the police station. Mac and I wait outside, as Dean and Rae do the questioning.

They emerge victorious, carrying a list of the families of the victims. We head to the most recently hit apartment building. Mac and I take the first family, Dean and Rae head to the next.

Mac knocks, and a weary looking man answers. We flash our badges.

"I am Agent Cooper, and this is Agent Morris." Mac says. "We are investigating the disappearances. I know this must be hard for you, Mr. Fisher, but we need to speak with you about the night Jake was taken."

Mr. Fisher hangs his head, but opens his door for us to enter.

I look over at a mantle, adorned with various pictures of Jake, the missing child. The one that catches my eye is of a smiling toddler, sitting on a multicolored blanket, holding a stuffed bear.

"Mr. Fisher, do you remember anything strange about the night Jake disappeared? Any electrical problems, cold spots, strange noises?" Mac asks.

"No. None of those things." He answers. "Only…"

"Only what sir?" I ask.

"Well I didn't mention this to the police, it seemed unimportant at the time. But the longer I go without seeing my son, the more significant every little thing seems to me. The night Jake went missing, he woke me up, and asked me to turn off the music, because he couldn't sleep."

"Is that unusual?" Mac asks, her eyebrows scrunched together.

"It wouldn't be, if any music were playing. It was completely silent in the apartment. I told him he was dreaming, and to go back to bed…" Mr. Fishers voice breaks.

Mac places her hand on his shoulder gently. "We will do our very best to find Jake. You have been very helpful. Thank you Mr. Fisher."

We let ourselves out into the hallway, where Dean and Rae are waiting.

"Heard music where there was none?" Rae says.

"Yeah." Mac and I reply in unison.

"What the hell…I've never heard of anything like this…" Dean says.

"I'll have to do more research, this information has to yield something." Mac says.

We all make our way to the coffee shop. Mac pulls out her laptop again, and begins to research. And Dean digs out dad's journal and flips through it absentmindedly. I read over his shoulder. Suddenly I grab the book out of his hand and read from an ancient looking manuscript.

"The Pied Piper began as a warlock, who always wanted a son, but was barren." I translate. "So one day, he made a deal with the devil. If only he could have a son for his meager lifetime, then he would give his soul in exchange. He got his wish. He was given a son, and he lived with the son exactly ten years in peace. Then Lucifer came, and collected payment. Instead of taking the warlocks life, he took only his soul, leaving the man with no meaning or purpose. The warlock had his son, but he still felt empty inside. He decided that the only way to stifle this emptiness would be to have more sons. So he enchanted a flute, so that its tune would cause young boys to come to him. He went from village to village, gathering sons, but he was still empty. Driven mad by his cold logic and lack of a soul, he decided that it was not the love of a son that he desired, but the flesh of one. _That_ would surely fill him. So he took his young son's life, and he burned him upon an altar of stone. He ate the flesh, but was still empty. He continued with every boy he had tempted away from their homes, until he had no sons left, but the emptiness was overwhelming. Over time, he turned into a faceless monster, with nothing but a mouth to consume with. He fashions his cloak from the remaining shreds of the many garments of his victims. To this day, he goes from village to village, luring away children, and feasting on them, ever trying to fill the void that is within him."

We all sit around the table quietly.

Rae breaks the silence: "The Pied Piper? Seriously? I thought that was just a kids fairy tail…"

"The problem with legends and fairy tales is that they are almost all just watered down versions of some horrible true story.

"All those poor boys…" Rae says softly.

"No...not necessarily…the text translates into feasting, not just eating…that would suggest that he literally has a feast…as in…gorging himself on several kids at once…Maybe this is just me wanting this really bad, but what if he waits until he has a larger number, and feasts all at once? Those boys _could_ be alive." I say.

"I hope you're right!" Mac says. "But how do we find this Piper? We can't hear his music, and Atlanta is huge…"

Dean stands up suddenly, and walks up to the counter of the coffee shop. He grabs a folded map out of a display, and walks back over to us. He starts mapping out the buildings that have been hit, trying to work out a pattern.

"It's a pentagram!" He says roughly. "Once a warlock, always a warlock…"

"That would put the final point at…One Atlantic Center!" Mac realizes.

"If he keeps up the pattern, every other day five or six kids have gone missing…he'll hit it tonight!" Rae points out.

"So how does one kill the Pied Piper?" Mac asks.

"Ok so this sounds like a cross between a crossroads deal, and a Wendigo, and a warlock, and….and Sam during his soulless phase." Dean says.

I shoot Dean a dirty look. He knows how I feel about that time in my life. Mac puts her hand on my forearm reassuringly.

"Fire kills the Wendigo, and pretty much anything pointy kills a Warlock, so long as you have a protection bag…" I say.

"We'll have to work up a hell of an arsenal, and just try a little bit of everything." Mac concludes.

"Lets rest up," Dean says solemnly. "Tonight, we are gonna toast this asshole."

…

When we arrive at the hotel, Dean and Rae head strait for bed. I climb in, and wait for Mac.

"You go ahead and sleep," She says. "I'm not very tired. I'm gonna start working on the arsenal for tonight."

"I'm not tired either, really." I lie. "Let me help."

"Sleep." She commands.

"Ok" I give in.

I hear the door open and close, twice. She comes back in with her recurve bow, and a box of arrows that don't have a tip yet. I watch her as she pulls out several blocks of wood, and begins to whittle. I want to ask her what she is doing, but I am too tired to talk. I drift off.

…

"Wake up guys." Mac says. "It's seven, and I want to get to our post before it gets dark."

We all stretch and yawn as we climb out of bed and put on our clothes.

"I have prepared each of us a different arsenal, so we can try as many options as possible in as short amount of time as possible." Mac says. "Rae: brass and silver katanas. Dean: silver bullets for your gun, and a flamethrower. Sam: Consecrated iron rounds, holy water, and your hunting knife. I'll have my bow and arrows, and of course my poker. There has to be something between the four of us to take this bastard out. Can anyone else think of anything I've missed?"

"Sounds like you've just about got it covered." Dean replies.

"Then lets nail this douche."

…

We arrive at One Atlantic just before dark, each with our special weapons in tow. We make our way to the top, where the lock is still broken, without incident. It's a lot easier to be stealthy with all your clothes on…

We all take a corner of the building, with our binoculars.

I take out my walkie and page Mac.

"Hey are those your underwear?" I joke.

"Oh my god we are all on the same frequency…" Dean points out.

"Oh I know." I laugh.

We wait for three hours with no incident. Suddenly all four of our walkies begin to crackle with static.

Our attentions snap back, and we focus on the ground below. A cloaked figure stands just outside the front entrance.

The others quickly join me at the front of the building, when they determine the threat is not on their corner. I point to the Piper. Mac leans over the edge, squinting hard.

"That has to be him," She says. "Lets get down there, and follow him out. He can lead us to the other children if they are still alive."

We make our way down the hallways and stairs, finally coming to a stop just before the doors of the building. We crouch behind the potted jungle, and wait as children file past us, like little sleepwalkers.

After the last child passes, we file out. The Piper has already started up the alley. We tag along, far enough behind to stay out of sight, but not so far that we lose them.

We walk for a good hour and a half before reaching a wooded area. The children come to a stop and sit cross-legged around an enormous bonfire. I look around.

It isn't just the children from One Atlantic. There are at least twenty unharmed children, sitting in a trance around the fire.

We crouch in the woods, and wait.

I watch in horror as the Piper puts his flute into his cloak pocket, and pulls Jake up by his arm. He leads him toward a crude altar made of various stones.

"NO" Mac screams, running out from the weeds. We all follow, various weapons drawn.

Mac makes it to him first. She slices with her poker, and the Piper hisses. His hood falls back, exposing smooth face, no eyes, no nose. Only a gaping mouth filled with protruding, rotten, fangs, and a forked tongue. He flicks his tongue, agitated, but the poker does no real damage. He swipes at Mac, leaving a gaping wound on her collarbone.

Rae reaches him next, both of her katanas drawn. She slices an x shape into his face, and he howls. He is fast, and soon he has Rae pinned down, his fangs dripping on her shirt.

Dean charges him, and puts a silver bullet through his head. The Piper staggers back, and holds still for a moment. We watch in horror as the bullet pushes its way back out of his head, and drops into the grass.

He begins to chant something in Latin, but it has no effect, thanks to the protection bags Mac made us.

I fly forward, pulling my hunting knife, and slicing off three of his fingers, before driving the knife deep in his chest. A shock wave bursts from him, throwing us all back about twenty feet. Rae hits a tree hard. Dean stands back up, and pulls his homemade flamethrower out. He sprays the fire toward the Piper, but he is too fast, and he blurs out of the way.

This is the first time I see the Piper run.

"IT HAS TO BE FIRE!" I scream.

Mac dashes up beside me, holding her bow, and one wooden tipped arrow.

"Keep him busy for a sec." She says.

I pull my pistol, and run toward the Piper. I unload a clip into him, and he screeches, clawing at his chest.

I look back, and see Mac pull out her lighter, and empty most of the fluid onto the wooden tip. She lights it, allowing the flame to spread.

Then she knocks the arrow, and takes aim.

"DROP" She screams to us, and we all comply.

She lets the arrow fly.

It finds its intended mark, the Pipers mouth.

His head bursts into flame, and the rest of his body follows suit.

As he smolders into ashes, the children come out of their trances one by one.

Mac calls 911, and tips them off about the missing children's whereabouts.

We keep watch over them, until we see the first responders break into the clearing. I watch as an emt worker picks up Jake, and carries him to the ambulance. Mac grabs my hand and leads me away. Soon this place will be crawling with cops, and that's the last thing we need.

I dash through the woods, taking the long way around where the first responders came from.

A few hours later we drag ourselves into the hotel room. We are bloody and battered, but when I think of the lives we saved, I know it is well worth it.

I examine Macs wound with concern.

"That'll need stitches…" I say.

She grabs a sterile suture kit out of her bug out bag, and tosses me the case. "Knock yourself out."

I lay her back on the bed gently, and sterilize the cut. Then I thread the needle, and begin to sew. She flinches each time the needle penetrates, but she handles it stoically.

When I finish, I kiss her forehead gently. "Sleep."

She half grins at me, and drifts away, exhausted.

Rae trails into the bathroom to shower, and Dean sits on his bed, rubbing his shoulder.

"Damn. Just when you think you've seen everything, some new ugly bastard raises his head up, and we have to find a new way to take it out." He says.

"Yeah. Lucky we have Mac." I smile.

"She is gonna make a great mom." Dean says matter-of-factly.

I freeze. "Why would you say that?"

"Oh, I'm just saying whenever you guys do decide to… I don't know, reproduce, that will be the safest kid in the world."

"We aren't going to have any kids Dean." I say.

"Why the hell not?" He demands.

"I lost her last time. There is no way I could risk that again."

"Sammy, you cant live your whole life in fear, just because you lost her. She could have just as easily died tonight fighting that Piper as she could during childbirth, but you didn't stop her fighting. Because you know as well as I do that she is as tough as they come. You can't put your whole life on hold because of the past."

"I…I don't want to talk about this anymore. I am too tired to think." I respond.

I lie in the bed next to Mac and watch her sleep. I think about the dreams, and I think about Dean's advice.

I think about the green-eyed child in my dreams, and my heart melts.

…

On the way back home to the bunker, we listen to the news.

"And the children were found in the woods after an anonymous tip. The police tried to trace the source, but it was a burn phone. In an interview with Police Chief Thompson, he is quoted as saying that they are just happy to have the children home at this point, regardless of the means."

Dean pushes in a cassette tape of Asia, and I lean my head back on the seat. I didn't sleep last night. I couldn't stop thinking. Fighting with myself over the right thing to do.

As my eyes close, I find myself outside the bunker again, with Mackenzie and the child. I hold him in my arms, and my mind is made up.

…

Chapter Fifteen: Part two.

Mackenzie

I wake up to the sound of Dean and Rae arguing about the virtues of Def Leppard versus AC/DC.

"The children are awake." I groan.

I stretch from the tips of my fingers to my toes. Suddenly I feel a tiny tornado in my stomach.

"Oh!" I exclaim, and put my hand on my enormous belly.

"Sam! Feel!" I command.

He smiles and rolls over. He lays his head on my belly, and laughs as the baby kicks him in the face.

"Hah!" I exclaim. "Not even born yet, and it can already kick your ass."

He kisses my belly, and then my lips.

"I love you." He says.

"I love you too." I smile.

"I'm going to hop in the shower. I'll be right back." He beams.

I lay in bed and think about the past nearly nine months.

Mostly I've been puking, but also we've been planning.

Rae moved into Dean's room with him, and Sam and Dean made me the most beautiful nursery. The walls are painted with brightly colored jungle creatures, and giant palm fronds. Underneath the green carpet are about thirty different types of sigils, including a giant devil trap.

There is also a complicated emergency plan, which involves holy water, a revolver, and a bug out bag. I shake my head and laugh when I think about it. The boys may or may not have gone a little overboard with it.

I roll over and awkwardly sit up. God I'm HUGE. I stand up, and walk toward my dresser to find something stretchy to wear. I take two steps, and feel a gut wrenching pain in my stomach.

"Oh my god. OH MY GOD! SAMMY!" I scream.

I hear the glass door slide open, "Babe? Everything ok?"

"IT'S TIME!"

I hear a loud thump. "OWWW, Are you sure?!" He streaks into our bedroom, rubbing his head.

"Pretty dAMN!" I scream, doubling over.

Sam rushes to get dressed, and pulls me a pair of sweatpants out of my drawer. He helps me into them, and flings open our bedroom door.

"DEAN, RAE, ITS TIME!" he shouts.

I hear something metal drop in the kitchen, and Dean darts out of the door to bring around the Impala.

Rae runs past me, and grabs my emergency bag out from under our bed. Then she darts back toward the door to meet Dean.

"Ready?" Sam asks, his eyes alight with excitement.

"Yes!" I smile.

I waddle toward the door, and into the back seat of the Impala. Baby's engine growls, and she gets me to the ER in record time.

My doctor is there, waiting for me, Dean or Rae must have called him in.

They put me in a wheelchair and wheel me down to the birthing room.

As I lie in the bed, waiting for my next contraction to hit, I compare this to any other pain I've felt. I'd been tortured, beat half to death, bitten, and brutalized, but nothing I'd ever felt compared to this pain.

I look over to Sam, who looks terrified. I can't blame him.

Dean and Rae stand on the other side of my bed, watching my face.

The contraction hits, and I cry out in pain. Sam reaches out and grabs my hand. He flinches because I squeeze with all my might.

"Wimp." Dean says.

I fling my fist back into his stomach, causing him to double over in pain.

"WI..imp" I reply.

"Need you to push Mrs. Winchester." the doctor says.

I push with all my might, and fall back onto the bed. I lay there in shock for a moment, and then I hear it.

The most beautiful sound in the world.

My baby crying.

The doctor wraps the baby in a white blanket, and brings it to me. I reach out my arms and take it in my hands.

"It's a boy." The doctor says. "What will you call him?"

I look at my family. My husband, my brother, and my sister.

"His name is John Winchester."

I look at the boy's faces. First Sam's, his face is lit up with pride and awe. Then I look at Dean. Tears spill over onto his cheeks at the mention of his father's name.

"Thank you." He whispers.

As I hold my son in my arms, he begins to cry.

Sam and Dean lean forward worriedly, but I know what to do.

I rock John and sing softly:

_Carry on my wayward son,_

_There'll be peace when you are done,_

_Lay your weary head to rest,_

_Don't you cry no more._


	16. Here's Johnny

I take my child in my arms.

My eyes burn with rage.

The vampire hisses as her fangs push out of her gums. She stands between the door and me.

I am trapped, as she advances toward me.

"BACK OFF BITCH!" I growl. John looks around confused.

I scream into the baby monitor. "SAM! VAMP! HELP!"

Within seconds Sam bursts through the door, and lobs her head off.

"How the hell did a vampire get into the BUNKER?!" I scream.

"I have an idea how." He growls. He drops the saber on the ground, and storms out of the nursery. I follow him.

He bursts into Dean's room, and jerks him out of bed by his arm.

Dean reeks of whiskey, and poor choices.

"Where's the girl you brought home tonight?!" Sam screams.

"I don't know she must have went home." Dean slurs.

His eyes open wide, as he realizes his mistake. "Wait…I mean…._What girl_?!"

"I'll tell you where she is," I shout. "She is laying in MY TEN MONTH OLD SON'S nursery floor, _beheaded_.!"

"_What_?"

"YOU BROUGHT A _**VAMPIRE**_ INTO OUR HOME! SHE WAS IN JOHNS NURSERY!" I cry.

"No, wait, I..."

Sam punches him hard in the jaw, knocking him out cold.

John starts to cry, and I carry him out of the room, as Sam picks Dean up and tosses him back into bed.

I sit down at the table in the middle of the bunker, and rock John back to sleep, while Sam paces angrily.

Finally he sits down in a chair beside me, and lays his head on the table in defeat.

"What are we going to do with him?" Sam asks, morosely.

"I don't know. It's been six months since Rae left, and he is only getting worse. Now he is putting John in danger, and that is _not_ acceptable."

"I know. I don't know what he was thinking, bringing a stranger into this bunker."

"He was too wasted to think." I reply.

Sam gets up to drag the body of the vampire outside and burn it.

"We'll have to replace the nursery carpet," he says, as he drags a lumpy tarp past me.

We take John to bed with us for the night; I am too scared to leave him in his nursery.

John wakes me early in the morning, giggling and carrying on. I put him in a fresh onesie, and carry him into Dean's room to check in.

Dean is still lying in his bed face down. I climb up onto the mattress, and sit cross-legged, with John propped up on my lap.

"Dean...wake up." I prod him in the side with my foot.

He groans and rolls over.

"Owww..." he rubs his busted face. "What happened?"

"What happened is you got black out drunk, and brought a slutty _vampire_ home. I found her in Johnny's nursery. Sam killed her, and burned her body. He also hit you in the face, which you deserved." I explain.

"Oh...my god. I'm so sorry. I don't remember a thing," Dean buries his head in his hands.

"Dean, this _has_ to stop. This self-destructive behavior was bad enough when you were only hurting yourself, but now you put the _baby_ in danger. _You need help_." I say, my voice quivering.

"I know" his muffled voice replies.

"Look, I know it's been hard since Rae left." I say. "I think it would help if you at least talked about it to someone."

John grunts and leans toward Dean, chubby little arms stretched out.

I hand him over willingly. Dean sits him on his lap, then fiddles with his hands.

"She said... She said it was all too much. She said that she couldn't be a hunter her whole life. That she wants to lead a normal life. It came out of nowhere, Mac. She _loved_ hunting. I don't know why she really left. I think she just didn't love me anymore."

I put my arm around Dean, and lean my head on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. I really am. It's been six months though, and you have to think about your family. About Johnny. You can't afford to make these foolish choices anymore. He could have died." I frown.

Dean looks down at the top John's tiny head. "I'm sorry little buddy. Uncle Dean made a big mistake last night. It won't happen again."

John tilts his head back to look at Dean's face. He grins and giggles, like Dean is the best thing in the world.

"Hey, can you watch him for the day?" I ask suddenly, "I need to take care of some things in town."

"You trust me to watch him?" Dean asks, eyebrows raised.

"Sam will be around to kick your ass if needed. I think it's time for you to put _your_ bottle down and pick up _his_." I wink.

A few minutes later I grab my keys and kiss a confused looking Sam goodbye.

When I arrive at my destination, I get out and walk up the steps.

I'd been here only once before. I was helping Rae gather up some of her belongings to bring to the bunker.

She had decided to keep this house as a safe house for us; after all it was already paid for.

I figured she probably came back here when she left.

I stride up to her door and knock firmly.

AC/DC is blaring through the door.

"Rae, it's Mac. I know you're home!" I shout.

The door cracks open, and she peeks around it.

"Mac? What happened? Is Dean ok?" Rae asks, looking alarmed to see me.

"No, Rae, he fucking isn't. He has gone off the deep end. All he does anymore is drink and sleep. He needs closure. You and I both know you didn't leave because you were suddenly scared of the hunt, and so does he. God I could have come up with a better excuse than that. So now he thinks you just stopped loving him, and it is tearing him apart."

I look at her big blue eyes, as they fill up with tears, and I feel kind of bad for being so harsh.

"I could _never_ stop loving him. I really did leave because the hunt was too dangerous."

"Rae in the time I've known you, you've become an amazing hunter. How is it that all of a sudden the hunt is 'too dangerous'?" I ask.

"Not for me…" She says, as she steps back and opens the door.

I nearly scream.

She is very, very pregnant.

She widens the door, and allows me to come in. "I'm glad you're hear Mac. I've really missed you."

"You didn't even say goodbye to me..." I point out.

"I'm sorry, really. I panicked, and I knew you would try to talk me out of it. When I found out I was pregnant, it's like the whole universe shifted. Everything revolved around my desire to keep this baby safe. And it just so _happens_ that our family attracts every dangerous thing known to man."

"I remember that feeling. The first time I found out I was pregnant, I lost it. I honestly considered giving the baby up for adoption. I couldn't imagine a child growing up as a hunter, but then I thought: I grew up as a hunter. So I asked myself, would I trade my life for a normal one? The answer was a resounding NO. Despite the injury, loss, and even my own death, I have had a _happy_ life. And I feel like I've been able to make a difference in this shitty world. Who was I to take that away from my child."

She is silent for a moment, then she puts her hand on her stomach. "I just don't want him to have to live in a world of monsters."

"Well I've got news for you, that baby," I point to her stomach, "has Winchester blood flowing through his veins. And where the Winchesters are, monsters will appear. You could move to Alaska, and live in a cabin, and I guarantee you some fuckin' creature will come knockin'. The best chance that baby has is to be with his family. A family who, thanks to our uncanny draw to the supernatural, and all our experience dealing with that problem, can actually protect him."

"These past six months have been pure hell." She admits, "Every bump in the night has sent me into a frenzy. I thought the baby would be safer if I could give him a clean break from hunting. But no matter how normally I try to live, _I_ know monsters are real, and keeping that from my child could be mean his death. You are right. He is a Winchester. He has to be able to protect himself. And, for the record, I miss Dean so so much. The only reason I have stayed away so long is because I was afraid he would already be with someone new.

"Well he isn't. He is nowhere _near_ over you. And keeping this child a secret from him would be wrong. Now, are you coming willingly, or do I have to drag you?" I ask pointedly.

She nods and hugs me, crying mascara onto my white t-shirt.

...

Rae fidgets nervously on the way home. She is tearing a candy wrapper into a thousand pieces.

I take it out of her hand, because she is making a huge fucking mess.

Her breathing accelerates as I pull into the driveway.

"Calm down. You will be ok." I encourage her.

When we pull up, Dean is outside with John. He is playing airplane with him holding him up, and running in circles. Sam is standing in the background, with a watchful look on his face, still not convinced the 'Dean Babysitting" idea was wise. I laugh at the spectacle.

I look over at Rae, and she is beaming.

She gets out of the car and walks toward Dean.

When he looks up, his eyes grow wide. _Then_ he looks down, and I think his eyes might fall out of his head.

He hands John to Sam, and runs to Rae full speed. He comes to a sliding stop in front of her, and tears stream down his face.

"Is this real?" He asks.

She takes his hand, and puts it on her stomach, and he falls to his knees. He lays his cheek on her belly, and closes his eyes.

I walk over and take John from Sam, and he wraps his arms around me. Despite his previous annoyance with Dean, he is smiling from ear to ear.

"You are a wonderful person." He whispers in my ear.

"Right?!" I joke.

...

Dean follows Rae around for a few days, he seems to think she might vanish again. He is over the moon happy about the baby, and his energy is infectious.

We laugh and joke as we prepare for the new babies arrival. We put another crib to the nursery, and replace the bloody carpet. We repaint the walls, as the blood splatter kind if ruins the theme of cute animals.

Sam paints my face with the light blue, and I knock him into the wall, which means we have to re-paint that spot.

When we finally finish, we examine our handiwork. The results are beautiful. The room is now sky blue, with fluffy white clouds, and black silhouettes of soaring birds. Rae painted swaying willow trees to frame the baby beds.

We live in peace for a few more weeks, and then it is time.

We execute a flawless emergency plan, and arrive at the hospital, barely in time.

Rae doesn't scream like I did during labor, instead tears fall silently down her cheeks.

The baby, however, definitely has Dean's lungs.

He makes a loud appearance, squalling like a tiny banshee, until Dean takes him in his arms, and places him gently into Rae's.

He immediately begins to suckle, and I watch as Dean struggles not to ruin the moment with a boob joke.

He looks at his new son, and he is so happy.

"He is so beautiful Rae." I smile, and brush the baby's forehead with my hand. "What's his name?"

"We decided on Robert Samuel Winchester." She smiles. "After Bobby and Sam."

"That's _perfect_." I smile.

John wiggles in my lap, trying to get a better view of the infant. I stand up, and hold him where he can see. He squeals and laughs in delight.

...

When we arrive home, I sit John in his playpen, and help Rae get settled in. She hands Bobby to Dean, and we begin to unpack her things.

I watch Dean out of the corner of my eye, as he coo's and babbles.

Bobby smiles at him.

"Did you see that?" He says in amazement. "He smiled at me!"

I leave the happy couple to their unpacking, and walk back into the living room to get John for his bath.

When I reach his playpen, however, it is empty.

I see a smoldering hole in the side of the playpen, and I begin to panic.

"SAM?!" I call.

At the same time Sam runs out of the bedroom, holding John.

"Why was John in our bedroom alone?" He demands.

"I left him in the playpen!" I defend myself. "Look!"

Sam hands me John, and examines the hole in the side of the playpen.

"_What could have done this_?" He whispers.

John grabs a lock of my hair, and it begins to smolder.

"Sammy!" I start to hyperventilate.

"Oh no!" He groans. "_He has powers_."


	17. The Lang Suir

I stand perfectly still, holding my baby boy arms length away.

He has just burnt off a lock of my hair, and he holds it in his chunky little hands, grinning.

"_He has powers_." Sam's words echo in my ears.

The edges of my vision blur.

Sam sees me starting to lose it, and takes John out of my arms. I flop on the couch, put my head between my legs, and begin to hyperventilate.

Dean comes out of the bedroom holding Bobby.

When he sees me in my diminished state, he hands the baby to Rae, and gets down on his knees in front of me.

"Mac? _Mackenzie what is it_?!" He grabs my shoulders and lifts me up, so that he can examine my face. What he sees must terrify him, because his hand twitches toward his gun, and he looks around the room nervously.

I shake my head and point to John.

"He has demon blood." Sam explains, and then points toward the playpen.

"He has special abilities?!" Rae asks, "Like Mac did?!"

"So it would seem." Sam says grimly.

I get up to leave the room so that I can avoid making a scene.

Sam hands John to Dean. "Hold him, and don't let him...burn... anything."

I run into our bedroom, stick my face into my pillow, and scream to the top of my lungs hysterically.

"Mac, you need to breathe, calm down." he says gently, as he climbs onto the bed.

He sits cross-legged, and scoops me into his lap. I curl up in a ball and weep as he rocks me back and forth.

"Shhhhh" he soothes me. "It'll be ok."

"In what way?" I ask darkly. "How the _fuck_ are we going to handle this?! There is no way in heaven or hell that my baby is going through what I went through to lock up my powers. I had to die! Next to childbirth, it was the worse pain I ever felt, and I almost didn't make it back. And Mordecai killed the only warlocks in the world who knew how to destroy them. What do we do?!"

"First we have some dinner. Then we give Johnny a bath, and we go to bed. Just like any other night. We don't know the extent of this yet, and freaking out won't make it any better. We'll call Cas in the morning, and see what can be done." He says reassuringly.

My breathing slows, and my crying winds down into an occasional sob.

Finally I regain control.

I stand up, and examine what's left of the fried strip of hair on the left of my head. I braid it, and dry my face.

"Looks kind of badass." Sam points out jokingly.

I half smile, and make my way back to the living room. Dean is sitting on the floor, wearing oven mitts, playing patty cake with John, who laughs delightedly every time a poof of smoke rises from the mitts.

I scoop John up into my arms. He reaches out and touches my neck. He leaves a red little handprint, which stings like a curling iron burn.

I use my firm voice, "_Oww_ Johnny, that hurts mommy."

He looks at me in confusion with his big green eyes, and then reaches for my face. I cringe as he lays his palm on my cheek, expecting it to burn again, but his touch is cool.

"Mommy?" He repeats.

I hold him tightly, as tears run down my cheeks, happy this time.

"_Thank you buddy_!" I whisper softly.

"Pay up Dean." Sam says.

They had a bet whether John would say mommy or uncle first. Sam won.

At bedtime, I pace around, trying to decide what to do with Johnny. If we put him in his crib, he might burn the whole bunker down.

"Let's just bring him to bed with us," Sam says. "We'll wake up if something goes wrong."

Sam falls asleep with one hand on the fire extinguisher beside the bed. I hold John tightly, and we sleep through the night without incident.

The next morning we wake up, and gather in the living room.

"Cas, buddy we need you." Dean says to the ceiling.

"Hello Winchesters." Cas says cheerfully.

"Check it out!" Dean replies. He holds out Bobby. "I made this."

"Your son is beautiful!" Cas exclaims, with a big smile on his face. "You must be very proud."

"Yep. But that's not why we called you here." Dean says, and then nods his head toward me.

I walk toward Cas, with John cradled in my arms.

"Hi little buddy! You've gotten big!" Cas grins and reaches out to take John in his arms.

As soon as he touches him, however, his face grows grim. "_Oh_."

I swallow hard. "H..he has powers." I explain.

"Well we shouldn't be shocked. He is Lillith's grandson." Cas sighs.

I frown at that. I don't like to think of my son as related to that bitch in any way.

"How bad is it?" I ask, bracing myself for the worst.

Cas holds Johnny up in the air and touches the baby's forehead to his own. It is quite the spectacle, and if it weren't for such a serious atmosphere, I would laugh.

After a moment, Cas drops John back into his arms, and says:

"It's not so bad. As far as I can tell he only has the ability to burn things with his hands. Other abilities may reveal themselves later on in life, but he is not nearly as powerful as Mac was. Also, he seems to have understood very clearly that him burning things displeases you Mac. Apparently you have a very commanding voice."

"That's my smart baby. He got his daddy's brains." I wink at Sam.

...

Cas sticks around for a few days, keeping an eye on John, and getting to know Bobby.

I sit at the table, feeding John a jar of mushy banana gunk. Cas watches us with rapture. Sam is on a fluffy leather chair, reading, and Dean is napping on the couch.

Rae comes rushing into the room, eyes wide. "Guys, I think we've got a case! I was watching the news while I was feeding Bobby, and there is a report of twelve murders, every victim a pregnant woman, and in every case the baby was ripped out of the body..." She looks like she might puke.

"This sounds like a messed up monster." Dean says.

"It sounds to me like this will take all of us..." Sam says.

"Well someone has to stay to watch the babies..." Rae says morosely, assuming she will be the chosen one.

Dean gets a mischievous look in his eyes. "You've babysat before, haven't you Cas?"

Castiel's eyes grow wide when he realizes what Dean is suggesting.

"Oh...no...I don't think I'm qualified.."

"Sure you are! The boys love you!" Dean slaps him good-naturedly on the shoulder.

Twenty minutes later we peel out if the driveway, leaving a confused looking Castiel holding both Bobby and John.

"Let's DO this." Dean grins.

...

We pull into the Dark Horse hotel, after shift driving for 22 hours, and drag our tired asses out of the car.

When we hit the bed, Sam, Dean, and Rae are out like a light. I lie in bed and wonder how the babies are doing. When I finally drift off, I sleep fitfully.

We all awaken in the morning, and begin to research.

Sam and Dean make their rounds at the police office, morgue, and most recent crime scene, while Rae checks the journal, and I research online.

When the boys return from the morgue, they report several unsettling details.

"Every victim has a hole in the back of her neck, and is drained of blood. Every victims child was ripped from their stomachs." Sam looks green.

"Wait!" I say suddenly, and pull my laptop back up. I type feverishly until I find the article that I has read earlier.

Then I read:

"The Lang Suir is a female revenant in Malay and Indonesian mythology. It is said when a mother and child both die during labor, and the mother refuses to move on, her spirit becomes a Lang Suir. The transformation occurs forty days after the death of the mother and child. The Lang Suir is hideous with red eyes and long sharp nails. Their victims are usually pregnant women, and their unborn children. Lang Suir will tear the child from its mother's womb, and eat it, then suck the blood of the mother through a hole behind her neck. They are known to reside by bodies of water, because when none of their preferred food source is available, they feed on fish. The only way to defeat a Lang Suir is to cut off a lock of her hair and lay it in the womb of one of her victims. Then the victim's corpse must be salted and burnt. When this happens, the Lang Suir becomes mortal. Only then can she be killed."

"So, body snatch, haircut, salt n burn, then kill. Sounds easy enough." Dean says sarcastically.

"Ok well let's take it one step at a time." I say encouragingly.

Step One: Body snatch.

SAM

Mac and I dig feverishly.

"How did we get stuck with the body snatching?" She gripes.

"Well, it was this or try to give an insane monster slash ghost a haircut." I reply matter-of-factly.

"True." She agrees.

We finally reach the coffin, and I pry the lid open with my poker.

The body is mangled.

I hope they had a closed casket funeral. We roll the victim into a tarp, and then into a body bag. Finally we refill the hole.

"Let's beat it." Sam says.

We drop the body in the trunk, and head back to the hotel.

Step two: Haircut

Dean

I try to look like I'm not flipping out as I search the shoreline for any sign of the Lang Suir, but I think Rae can tell.

All I can think about is how these victims could have been her and Bobby, and it makes me want to punch something.

"I don't even know what we're looking for." I grouch.

"The lore says that Lang Suir spend their time by bodies of water. This is the only lake near here. We are just...looking, I guess."

"Waste of time." I mumble.

"Dean, over here!" Rae calls to me. I walk to her and look down. The ground is littered with fish carcasses. Each fish has a perfect nickel sized hole in it's side, and it has been sucked flat like a gogurt tube. Rae reaches down to pick one up and examine it more closely.

Suddenly a filthy wrinkled hand shoots up from the wet sandy shore, and grabs Rae's wrist. It starts to pull her down toward the ground, it's sharp claws dig into her forearm.

"Dean!" She screams, panicked.

I grab her by the waste, and pull her back.

The Lang Suir pops out of the ground like a turnip. A fugly screeching red eyed turnip...

She won't let go of Rae's wrist, and blood is starting to trickle down her hand. I pull out my revolver, and shoot a wrought iron round through the bitches shoulder. She hisses, and releases Rae.

The Lang Suir eyes us warily, then turns to run.

"Not a chance!" Rae shouts, and grabs the back of the Lang's hair. She yanks hard, and the creature turns for her, red eyes bugging with rage. I shoot four more times, directly in the Lang Suirs chest.

She screeches and claws at her chest, then she vanishes.

"Ghost is a ghost." I shrug.

Rae holds out a fist full of stringy green hair proudly.

"We did it."

Step Three: Salt and Burn

Rae

I stand over the mangled body of a young woman. I can only see her face, but that is enough to make me sick. The mortuary clearly did their best to repair her, but it did no good.

"Hair" Sam requests.

I drop the tangled mess into his hand.

"How's your wrist?" Mac asks.

"Burns." I reply.

Dean takes my arm in his hands and examines it. "You may need stitches on this one." He gestures toward a particularly deep gash.

"It's fine." I say, and pull my sleeve down to cover the mess. As tough as Dean acts, he is clearly shaken up.

Sam pulls back the rest of the body bag, revealing gashes and claw marks like the ones on my arm, all over her chest, face, and legs. Her torso is completely gone. There is nothing left but a shredded hole.

I gasp. "Poor woman." I say, tears welling up in my eyes.

Mac looks mad, like she wants to flatten the Lang Suir.

She probably could.

Sam takes the hair from the Lang Suir, and drops it into the gaping hole.

Mac salts the body, and dowses it in lighter fluid. Then Sam drops a lit match into the gaping wound, and the woman's body goes up in flames.

We all bow our heads. Then after the body burns out, Mac says:

"Whelp, let's shank this bitch."

Part Four: Kill The Bitch

MAC

We load up the Impala with an assortment of pointy things, and climb in.

I stare out the window blankly, thinking.

"The Lang Suir is the creature created when a woman and child die during child birth..." The words echo in my ears.

That could have been me… I could have become…this. Another three or four days, and my forty would have been up.

This realization only strengthens my resolve. This monster will die.

When we arrive, I slide my poker into my belt, and holster my revolver. I pull a quiver of arrows onto my back, and sling my bow over my shoulder.

We creep toward the lakeshore carefully, hoping to surprise the monster.

We hear an angry yowl.

"So much for surprising her." I say, as I draw my revolver.

The others make ready their respective weapons.

She makes her appearance by dropping down from a low hanging tree.

She may be mortal, but she is still a monster. She is fast, almost too fast for our senses to register.

Within seconds she is behind me.

She draws an arrow from my quiver and jabs it into the back of my leg.

I cry out in pain, and Sam runs for me.

Before he can reach me, she intercepts, and rakes her claws across his chest; ripping his shirt, and his flesh.

I see his blood, and have to blink hard not to pass out. I look back at my calf; the arrow is almost to the bone.

She is standing over Sam now, drool running down from her fangs, and dripping onto his wounds.

"OVER HERE BITCH" I hear Dean scream.

The Lang Suir looks up at him, with an evil wide-eyed grin.

Dean unloads a clip of iron rounds into her chest. She screeches, and runs toward him, unfazed.

Rae intercepts. She slices off the Lang Suirs arm cleanly with her katana. The creature wheels on her, and knocks her into a nearby rock. She slumps down, holding her ribs.

This makes Dean angry. He picks up Rae's katana, and makes for the beast.

I see what is coming before it happens. She puts her weight on her left foot, and pulls around the attack, coming back behind Dean, and ripping out a chunk of his shoulder with her fangs. Blood squirts out at an alarming speed.

I look at Sam, who is struggling to get up and help his brother. His chest and torso are covered in blood. Rae is still slumped by the rock.

I twist around, and break the shaft of the arrow off, leaving the head in.

I level my revolver at the Lang Suirs head, and let one bullet fly. It hits her directly in the back of her head. She spins on me, eyes bugging with rage.

She runs at me with previously unmatched speed, but I am ready.

As she reaches me, I drop to my good knee, and grasp a handful of her hair. I sling her head down over my knee, using the force of her speed and her lack of a left arm, to throw off her balance. I shove my hunting knife deep into the nape of her neck, where she would normally suck the blood from her victims.

She begins to convulse, and falls off of my lap, and onto the ground, dead.

I stand up and limp over to Sam.

"Sammy," I shake him gently.

He groans as he gets up.

"I have to go get the Impala, are you ok? I mean besides the obvious," I nod toward his bloodied chest.

"It looks worse than it is," He assures me. He drops to his knees, and rips my pant leg up to just above the wound, to examine the damage. The head of the arrow is still deep in my calf.

"We'll get it out later, I'll be fine," I say. "For now, though, we need to get Dean to the ER. He is bleeding bad."

Sam looks over at his brother, alarmed. "I'll be right back" he says, and runs toward the Impala.

I make my way over to where Dean lays. "DEAN?!" I cry. "DUDE wake up!"

Dean is staring at the clouds, eyes glazed over, chest heaving. Rae makes her way over, on her hands and knees.

"Dean?! DEAN?!" She screams, and tears stream down her face. I hear the Impalas tires spinning on the gravel, as Sam pulls up.

"Sammy he's going into shock! We need to get him to a hospital NOW!" I shout.

Sam helps me lift Dean into the back seat. Rae sits in the back, holding him as still as possible. We make it to the nearest hospital within minutes.

Sam runs in, and comes out with several EMT's and a cot. They slide Dean out of the back seat and onto the cot.

Another Nurse comes out for Rae, and wheels her inside in a wheelchair.

Sam and I follow Dean, until they go though a door that says staff only. I turn to Sam after a moment. "You need to be admitted too. Those cuts are bad. You need stitches at least."

"No, I'm waiting for Dean." He says stubbornly.

"Sam that is fresh blood." I point to his chest. "The cuts aren't closing. Go get stitches right now, or so help me god I will have a strait up Johnny tantrum in the middle of this hospital."

"Fine." He gives in. "But, your leg…"

"Is fine" I finish his sentence. "I barely feel it. I'll stay here and wait in case anything happens. YOU go get stitches."

I pace back and forth in the waiting area, despite the fact that my leg is now burning like a bitch. After half an hour, I sit in a chair and pull out my pocketknife. I take out my lighter, and burn the blade. Then I make an x shaped incision above where the arrowhead is jammed. I stick my fingers into the wound, until I feel the tip of the snapped off shaft. I grasp with all my might and pull.

"MOTHER FUCKER" I inhale. I hold the tip of the arrow out and examine it, verifying that none of the metal broke off in the bone.

"That's quite a gash you have there." Says a concerned looking man in a white coat. "May I?"

"Its fine. I'm not here for me, doctor. I am here waiting for my friends. We were camping, and a bear attacked us. They are all hurt pretty badly. Getting shot in the leg is the least of my worries right now."

"Maybe right now, but when gangrene sets in, and you lose that leg, it'll be pretty hard for you to hunt." He replies.

My eyes open wide, and I look at the doctor with sudden interest. "It'll be hard to what?" I ask.

"Hunt." He replies strait forth. "You are hunters, if I am not mistaken. I've never seen a regular person with an anti-possession tattoo. Your friend is stable by the way. I am the surgeon who worked on him." I feel my stomach settle a bit from that news. "He lost a lot of blood, so he will have to stay for a few days. I hope you already killed whatever is responsible for that nasty bite."

"I took care of it." I reply, still in awe that this doctor spoke so offhandedly about what we do.

"Good." He smiles. "Now let me see that cut, please?"

I lie on my stomach in the row of chairs, and the doctor examines my leg closely. Then he douses it in alcohol.

I come out of the chairs like a jack in the box. "What are you trying to do Doc?! Kill me?!"

"Hunters never cease to amaze me." He laughs. "I watched you dig that arrowhead out of your leg with a knife, without flinching, but practice a little basic sanitation and suddenly I'm the monster."

I give him a dirty look, but lie back down to allow him to stitch up the incisions.

"Ahem." I hear Sam's voice coming from behind the doctors. I nearly fall out of my chair.

"Deans ok! This is the surgeon who worked on him." I point to the doctor. "He knows about us. He saw Deans anti-possession tattoo, and I guess he already knows about hunters…He fixed my leg."

I stand up shakily, that alcohol really burnt. "How's your chest?" I ask.

"Its fine." He says, eying the doctor with a strange expression I'd never seen on his face. It makes me nervous. My hand inches toward my knife.

"How do you know about us?" He asks in a cold voice, which is odd, because I've never known Sam to be rude to anyone before.

"I have treated my fair share of hunters." The doctor says. "I sort of put it together on my own."

"Well thank you for helping my brother and my WIFE doctor, but I think we've got it from here."

"HAH" the laugh accidentally slips from my lips, when I realize what Sam's problem is.

I sink back into my chair and mumble. "Thank you for all you help doctor."

"Its my pleasure Mackenzie" Sam stiffens when the doctor uses my name. "I will be just down the hall if you need me."

Sam flops down beside me, and we wait for Rae. He is wearing a white t-shirt kindly donated by the hospital, and as usual he looks like a god.

I lean into his ear and whisper: "White t-shirt over white lab coat any day."

He looks embarrassed. "Ah, you caught that? Sorry…It's just, when I walked in and saw him leaning over you…I know it was innocent, but I just got all…weird…"

"Its ok, I find it flattering slash ridiculous." I laugh.

"O shut up." He growls, but he is smiling.

"Mac?!" Rae comes hobbling into the waiting area, with a pissed off looking nurse hot on her trail. "Where have you guys been?! I have been freaking out, and no-one has kept me posted! How is Dean?!"

"Oh god I'm sorry Rae. Sam and I were both being stitched up. Dean is stable, but he lost a lot of blood. He has to stay here a couple days. How are you?"

"She," The nurse interrupts, "Is supposed to be in bed. She has several broken ribs and a concussion."

Rae grins at the nurse slyly… "Whoa, haven't you ever heard of HIPPA lady? That's my personal medical whatsit you're spewin' all over the waiting room."

The nurse suddenly looks scared, like Rae is going to sue her ass off.

"Calm down, I was just messing with you." She laughs. "I'll go back to bed as soon as I've seen Dean."

The nurse speaks with the man at the ER desk, and he permits us all to trail back to Deans room.

Dean is lying in his bed, pale and still.

"Dean?" Rae says, her voice shaking.

"Tyranny?" He says and tries to lean toward her. "I need a beer."

She smiles and kisses him lovingly on the forehead. "That's my baby…O SHIT MY BABY! Mac, someone should check in on Castiel…"

"You get back to bed. I'm on it." I smile.

….

I stand in front of the payphone, rocking back on my heels nervously as it continues to ring.

"Hello?" Cas finally answers

"Castiel?" I say.

"Yes this is Castiel. Mackenzie?"

"Yeah, hey, so we got into a bit of a run in with the Lang Suir, and Dean is going to be in the hospital for a couple of days, can you handle the kids that long?"

"Yes… of course… is Dean ok? Should I come there?"

"Dean is stable, he just needs rest." I explain. "We all got beat up pretty bad on this one. We're ok though. You sure you can handle John and Bobby?"

"Yes, nothing new to report here...The children have behaved marvelously. I am sure you will come home to find everything perfectly normal…"

"O…kay." I reply suspiciously, "So long as you're sure…"

"Everything ok?" Sam asks nervously.

"Yeah. Cas sounded...weird. But that's probably just normal Cas." I point out.

"Yeah probably." He agrees.

...

Dean gripes as the nurse wheels him out of the hospital to the Impala.

"It's hospital policy sir," she explains again.

He is loopy from the pain meds, and we have to lure him into the back seat with the promise of a deli sandwich.

We are finally loaded up and on our way home. I cannot wait to see my baby boy. Being away from him this long has been hard.

When we pull up to the bunker, I jump out of the car, and run to the door. I let myself in, but stop short.

Cas is standing in the doorway, holding a naked Johnny upside down, with pot holders.

There are circular burn marks all over the carpet, and hand shaped holes all over Cas's coat. The left leg of his trousers are missing, and only about an inch of his tie is left. There are tiny flames dancing around on the map table, and all the smoke alarms in the bunker are blasting.

The most alarming part, however, is that all the furniture is on the ceiling.

"I'm so glad you're here." Cas says, pitifully.

"Jonathan Dean Winchester!" I exclaim, "You stop it right now!"

"MOMMY!" He says joyously, and all the furniture drifts to the floor. He tugs out of Castiels grasp, and runs to me.

I pick him up, and look at the pure devastation.

"What the hell happened?!"


	18. Castiels Adventures in Babysitting

I stand in the doorway, with the two small humans, and hold them awkwardly.

This seemed so much more natural when I was human. I have no idea why I am doing this. Guess I never _was_ able to say no to the Winchesters…

The smallest one, Dean's son, starts to cry.

"No, no, please don't do that." I beg softly.

I take John, into the nursery, and sit him on the floor.

He plays with his feet in awe for a moment, as I rock Bobby, trying to calm him.

I think Johnny is aware that I am clueless, because he looks at me knowingly, and grins.

He tugs himself up by my coat, and pulls on it, demanding my attention.

"Just a moment, let me calm Bobby down, and then we can play." I reply to his unspoken request.

Bobby stops crying, and I lay him in his bed. He is a brand new baby, and it concerns me that he is so very fragile.

I am pulled from my thoughts, as I realize that smoke is rising from my coattail.

Johnny has rather a mischievous grin on his face; the smoke is originating from his tiny fist.

"_Nonono_" I say, and pry his fingers off of my coat. His hands are hot, but luckily I am an angel, so I can handle it.

"**OW**" I say, realizing that I cannot, in fact, handle it.

Apparently a fourth hybrid blood is still enough to do some serious damage.

I wave my hand back and forth rapidly, trying to cool the burn. Finally I make my way to the kitchen, and run my hand under the faucet.

"Please don't do that again." I ask. "Turns out, _it hurts_."

Johnny giggles, and I look back just in time to catch him pulling a chair down on his own head.

He sits in the floor for a moment, stunned. Then a circle of flame builds up around him, and spreads outward with alarming speed.

He begins to wail, upset at his mishap.

I try to put out the flames with the sprayer from the kitchen sink, to no avail. I run into the fire circle, and pick up the distraught toddler. As soon as I do, he smiles, and the flame dies out.

I hear Bobby crying in the other room, and I sigh.

I walk into the nursery, and rub his belly, hoping I won't have to pick him up.

I feel that placing him in immediate proximity to his impish cousin may not be in his best interest.

After a moment, Bobby calms down again. I back away from the crib slowly, toward the door.

"_Good Night Bobby_" I whisper softly, and hit the light switch.

As soon as I flip the light off, it mysteriously flips back on.

John cackles and looks at me.

"Did you do that?" I ask, amused.

He touches my face, this time with a cool hand.

"I think I like you, even if you _did_ burn me." I decide.

He grins back, showing his shiny white baby teeth.

I turn off the light again, and traipse into the living room. I stand in the middle of the floor for a moment, wondering what to do next.

Johnny wiggles, and I let him down. He toddles over to a small toy chest that is slid against the wall. The lid opens by itself, before John reaches it.

My eyebrows push together in concern. This child may be far more powerful than I originally thought.

I walk over and pull out a stuffed dragon. John reaches for it. I sit down across from him cross-legged in the floor.

"Do you want this?" I ask.

"Uh!" He grunts and reaches for the toy.

"Here you go." I say, and put the toy on the floor, just out of arms reach.

The toy shoots into his hands within seconds.

"This is very bad." I say, wondering how I am going to explain this to Sam and Mackenzie.

John does not seem to understand the gravity of the situation. He is blissfully chewing away at his dragons nose.

After a half hour of playing, I decide it is time for Johns bath. I scoop him up, and carry him into the nursery.

Bobby is still sleeping peacefully, so I head to the bathroom and turn on the faucet to let the water warm up.

I begin to undress John, and he wiggles, aggravated.

"_Work with me child_." I beg.

He finally allows me to pull his shirt over his head, and finish undressing him.

I hold him over the bath water, but he lifts his feet and whines in protest. "Come on buddy, the water is just right…" I begin to lower him into the tub, and suddenly we are in a sauna.

The entire content of the bathtub has evaporated into steam. John sits in the middle of the now empty tub, and smiles up at me.

I shake my head, and manipulate the steam, causing it to swirl back toward the tub.

Johnny squeals with delight.

"You like that?" I laugh.

I concentrate, causing the steam to manifest as a duckling. Johnny claps his hands.

I move my hands, and the duck flaps above his head. The steam re-liquefies, and falls in drops onto his head. He reaches his hands up, grabbing at the droplets and cackling.

I can't help but smile.

I finish his bath, and wrap him in a towel, then walk around the bunker, just talking to him.

I tell him about Heaven, Niagara Falls, and the pros and cons of being an angel.

I know he can't understand me, but he looks up at me with his big green eyes, and soaks up every word.

Finally I dress him for bed, and tuck him into his crib.

"Sleep good little friend." I say.

He closes his eyes, and immediately falls asleep.

...

At midnight, I hear Bobby crying in his nursery.

I walk in and pick him up, then take him to the kitchen to warm up his bottle.

"The things I do for your daddy..." I shake my head.

He grins up at me, or possibly at the bottle I am holding, I can't tell.

I finish feeding Bobby, and rock him to sleep.

I look around the bunker, and think about how much this family has gone through. They deserve happiness, more than anyone else I know.

I put Bobby back to bed, and peek in at John. He is still sleeping peacefully.

The rest of the night passes without incident.

I wake John up in the morning, and feed John hot oatmeal. I give Bobby his bottle, and put him in the rocker. He observes and laughs, as John and I play.

The day passes quickly, blurring between times of calm, and times when I am trying to put out fires and keep Bobby safe from John's tantrums.

At about seven o clock, the phone rings. Unfortunately this is right in the middle of one of the hectic moments, when I am trying to save the bunker from complete destruction. I manage to scoop John up with a blanket, and the several stuffed toys that are floating around the room aimlessly drop to the ground.

"Hello?" I finally answer.

"Castiel?" A fuzzy voice says over the line.

"Yes this is Castiel. Mackenzie?"

"Yeah, hey, so we got into a bit of a run in with a Lang Suir, and Dean is going to be in the hospital for another night, can you handle the kids that long?" She asks.

"Yes…" I reply, while trying to put out a fire that has sprouted on my tie. Apparently Johnny prefers to be the center of attention. By the time I get it under control, nothing is left of my tie from the knot down. "Of course I can…" I put John back on the ground. He crawls toward Bobby, I snag him by the leg.

"Is Dean ok? Should I come there?" I ask.

"Dean is stable, he just needs rest." She replies tiredly. "We all got beat up pretty bad on this one. We're ok though. You sure you can handle John and Bobby one more day?"

"Yes, nothing new to report here," I lie, not wanting to worry her, "The children have behaved _marvelously_. I am sure you will come home to find everything perfectly normal…"

"O…kay." She replies, and I don't think I am fooling her, "So long as you're sure…"

The phone clicks.

I place Bobby in his rocker, and sit him up on top of the map table, so that he can see me while I try to clean up. Then I place John in his high chair, to keep him stationary for a while.

Johnny entertains himself by melting baby handprints into the plastic tray of the high chair.

I shake my head in disbelief, but allow it. He could be doing much worse.

"Your mother is going to murder me." I sigh.

I finally get the boys tucked into bed, and flop into the overstuffed leather chair.

I observe the state of the bunker, and worry that Mac will rip one of my wings off, and I'll have to fly in circles the rest of eternity.

I laugh at the sheer oddity of it.

"Hi, I'm Castiel, Angel of the LORD, and babysitter of slightly demonic toddlers…"

I shake my head, and make another pathetic attempt to clean up.

The next morning, after the boys have both eaten, I take them into the nursery. I put Bobby in a rocker, and let John wobble around the floor, as I pick up his toys.

I clean the room, and rub the scorch marks up as best as possible.

I look over to find John studying me with a perplexed look.

"What is it little buddy?" I ask.

Suddenly I am upside down, being held up by my pant leg. "NOOOO" I reach for the crib. I pull down with all my might, and finally my pant leg rips off at the knee. I fall into the crib hard, and it gives way, leaving nothing but splinters.

"Oh COME ON!" I say, exasperated. "I thought we were friends?!"

I must have sounded too harsh, because John's eyes fill up with tears, and he begins to wail.

"Oh no, don't cry, it's ok… I'm not mad." I pick him up off the floor, and hold him close, until his crying winds down into hiccups.

I tow both the boys into the living room, and turn on cartoons. Johnny watches for a while, while I fix them lunch. When lunch is over, I turn off the TV, and say "Nap time for the babies."

Johnny shakes his head, and slides off of the couch. He makes for the kitchen like an escaped convict, but I snatch him up by his waste.

"You may have fire power, and telekinesis, but I am still faster than you." I smile.

He turns red, and begins to kick and scream. Then his clothes begin to smoke. I put him down; for fear that he will catch his own self on fire. His clothes burst into flames, and I freak out.

I grab a vase of roses, pull out the flowers, and dump it on his head. The water immediately turns to steam. His clothes smolder to ashes, and he sits buck-naked in the floor, unharmed. Every smoke detector in the bunker goes off at once.

"Oh you think you've won, do you?" I say exasperated. I walk into the kitchen, and come back with oven mitts on.

Johnny tries to crawl away, but I snatch him up by his ankles. Suddenly every piece of furniture in the living room hits the ceiling. The only thing left on the floor is Bobby in his rocker.

At that exact moment, Mackenzie walks through the door.

"I am so glad you are here…I can explain…" I say.

"JONATHAN DEAN WINCHESTER!" she says sternly. "YOU STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

"MOMMY!" John says joyfully, as he struggles out of my grasp, and runs to Mac.

She picks him up, and all the furniture returns to its previous and upright position.

"_What the hell happened_?" She says, and I'm pretty sure I will be losing one of my wings…


	19. Happy Birthday John

**Part One:**

**MAC **

The whole family sits around a picnic table, as Sam lights the number one candle on Johnny's birthday cake.

"It's weird to burn something without salting it first." He chuckles.

"Don't salt the cake honey." I reply.

Johnny is bouncing up and down on Castiel's lap like a jack in the box.

Cas seems to have grown very attached to my son, despite Johnny lighting him on fire about a _bazillion_ times while we were gone.

This makes me happy, because nothing offsets a little bit of demon like a lot of exposure to angel.

We sing happy birthday, and then dig into the cake. Johnny makes a huge mess with his, slinging most of it into Castiel's hair.

Rae takes plenty of pictures, as Bobby sits in his carrier, cooing and giggling at the commotion.

When it comes time to open the gifts, Johnny shows more interest in the wrapping paper, which he keeps lighting on fire, and staring at until it burns out.

Sam watches, with a mixture of pride and possibly fear.

I take the paper from Johnny, in an attempt to prevent his father's head from exploding. Johnny reaches for the wrapping paper, and turns an alarming shade of temper tantrum red.

"Hey Johnny, wanna go for a car ride?" I ask. Lately, car rides have become John's favorite pastime. I figure his uncle Dean has a big part to play in that.

John's tantrum stops as quickly as it started. He claps his hands, and shakes his head up and down vigorously.

"I can clean up this mess when I get back, you guys chill." I instruct the others. They were out late on a coven raid last night, while I stayed home with the kids.

Cas hands Johnny to me, to avoid getting fried. "Poor Cas." I say, as I dust the cake crumbs out of his tufty brown hair. "You always seem to be the butt of all of Johns mischief. I have no clue why you still come around."

"I don't mind." He smiles good-naturedly.

As I load John into the car seat, Sam hovers. "You want me to come?" He asks softly.

"No it's ok. You go get some sleep." I kiss him goodbye.

"Ok be safe." He smiles. "Bye bye Johnny. See you in a bit!"

John waves, and bounces excitedly in his seat. "Bye bye daddy!"

The drive starts off smoothly. I roll the windows down, and blast Asia. I watch John in the rearview, as he bobs his head up and down to the beat of the music.

Suddenly my head jolts and smashes into the driver's side window hard, as a black van plows into the rear left of my car.

We spin out of control, and the tires hit the side of the road, catching onto the loose gravel, and causing the car to flip several times. The glass pops out of all the windows, as the vehicle settles right side up.

"_**John**_!" I scream. He is wailing in the back seat. I feel panic rising in my throat. _My son_! I try to reach him, but my belt will not unbuckle, so I draw my knife.

Suddenly a gloved hand reaches through my broken window, and injects my arm with a syringe of clear liquid.

My vision blurs, and I slash out, trying to hit something.

Anything.

I feel my knife slice into flesh, as everything fades to black.

...

**Part 2:**

**DEAN. **

I watch Sam pace around the living room nervously, dialing his phone again.

"I can't _believe_ I slept that long. Mac should be back by now." He worries.

"Dude, have a little faith. You know how she loves to drive. She probably just went farther than she meant to." I try to calm him before he paces right through the wall.

"_No_, we need to go after her. Something is wrong." He growls.

"Okay, okay, let's go." I placate him.

…

Sam leans toward the front of the windshield as I drive, his eyes straining for any sign of Mac.

I am tempted to slam on the breaks, and smash his face on the dash for being an over dramatic turd.

We drive for half an hour, and now I am starting to worry too. It's dark, and she has been gone too long.

"**Stop**!" Sam suddenly shouts, causing me to slam on the breaks.

He jumps out before we are even fully stationary.

"What the _hell_ Sam?!"

Then I see what caused his alarm.

The Charge is sitting about twenty feet off the side of the road, smashed like an aluminum can. I grab my flashlight out of the glove box, then run after him.

"_**Mac**_!" He screams, as he attempts to rip the door open. I run to the back of the car, and shine my light in the jagged broken window. John's car seat is empty. I shine the light up front, and Mac is gone too. Sam is cutting his fingers on the glass of the window, trying to pry the door open.

"_Sammy_!" I grab him by his shoulders, and pull him away from the wreck. He fights against me, pulling back toward the car.

"**SAM THEY ARENT IN THERE! THEY'RE GONE!"** I shout.

He goes limp, and falls to his knees.

I put my arms around him, and he sobs.

"_They're gone_," he says. "_Someone took them_."

"Maybe they are at the hospital..." I suggest.

"No. The police would be here cleaning up the wreck. Besides, I smelled sulfur. Someone did this Dean. Someone..." Suddenly his face turns dark. He stands up, and looks over the wreckage coldly. "_Someone is going to pay for this_."

I step back. I have never seen this look on my brother's face before. It scares me.

He bends down, picks up something off the ground, and dusts it off.

I shine my light on it. It is Johns new birthday toy, a gift from Sam. The tiny beanbag dragon is torn, and frayed from the severity of the wreck.

He holds it tight in his palm, and walks back toward the Impala. I follow him, and we drive back to the bunker.

I call a friend with a tow truck to bring the remainders if the Charger back to the bunker.

Sam stands in the corner, conversing with Cas.

"Thanks Brian," I say, as I hang up the phone.

Rae walks up holding Bobby. Her face is scrunched up with confusion and worry. I pull her in and hold her close.

"What happened?" She asks. "Where are Mackenzie and Johnny?"

"We don't know. We just know demons are involved."

Cas vanishes, and Sam walks over. "He is going to get the ingredients to summon Crowley." He says.

"We'll find them Sam." I promise.

...

**Part Three: **

**MAC**

My eyes flutter open, but everything is still fuzzy. I have a nagging feeling that I slept through something really important, but I don't know what.

I blink hard to clear my vision, and look around. I am in a metal room. It is sanitary and neat. I reach up to touch my sore head, only to realize that my hands are cuffed to a pipe. What is this place? As I take in my surroundings, my memory begins to flood back. The accident. _John_.

"**JOHN**!" I scream, and pull against the cuffs with all my might. I continue to pull, as the manacles cut into my wrists, and blood begins to trickle down my hands.

"_Come now_ Mackenzie, calm down. You are hurting yourself." Says a familiar voice.

My head whips around. Standing in the corner of the room, is the Doctor who stitched up my leg after the Lang Suir attack.

My mind spins. "_Who are you_?!" I cry. "_**Where is my son**_."

"I am Doctor Ivan Deskins. I am a scholar of the supernatural. As for where your son is, do not worry your pretty little head. He is safe. Locked up with my..._collection_." He smiles wickedly.

"What the hell do you mean, collection?"

"Oh a general selection of supernatural beings. Vampires, werewolves, a shifter or two. I like to... _explore_ the possibilities of their anatomy."

"You had better not lay a god damned finger on my son. Do you understand me?" I hiss. "For every single thing you do to him, I will repay it, and make it a million times more painful. In fact, you should probably just let us go now, while your lungs are still safely nestled inside your chest."

"Well that would be a total waste of effort wouldn't it?" He says. "I mean, it was sheer luck that I stumbled on the infamous Winchesters to begin with. Then having the opportunity to LoJack you when I sewed up your leg..._priceless_. When I heard what a precious jewel your son was… I had to have him. Granted if you still had your powers you would be _far_ more valuable. Still, a fourth hybrid... that's nothing to turn up your nose at."

"_If I still had my powers, you would be dead_." I point out hatefully. "I want my son, **NOW**."

"You aren't a hybrid anymore." He ignores my demand, "But I would still like to examine you. There may be a variant in your anatomy, based on your direct lineage from Lillith... _**A little help gentlemen**_?" He calls out to the hallway.

Two black-eyed demons march into the room, and one unlocks my cuffs. The other has a deep gash on his arm, and I realize he is the one who wrecked me. I try to fight back but they are too strong. They strip me down and strap me to a cold metal table. I struggle against my restraints.

"Hold still my dear," the Doctor says. "I don't want to prod the wrong organs..."

"_Fuck you asshole_." I spit.

"Your child is on the other side of this compound, as far away from you as possible. If you somehow manage to get free, he will be long gone by the time you reach his room. You will never see your son again if you escape. So I would stop trying if I were you."

My body goes limp.

"Would you like some anesthetic?" He offers, holding up a scalpel, and turning it so the light flashes off of the blade.

"No thanks." I snap back. "I need to know exactly how much pain to put you through before I kill you."

"Sooo dramatic." He sighs.

I feel the scalpel slice into my sternum, and I clench my teeth, trying hard to hold back my cry of pain. As a result, it comes out as a whimper, which pisses me off.

For the remainder of the "evaluation session" (as the doctor so fondly keeps calling it) I let out my pain in curses, and threats.

When he finishes, and stitches me up, I look up at him.

"Doctor?" I say softly.

"Yes?"

"Please, don't do this to my son." I feel a tear trickle down my face.

"Your sons tests are to be purely mental at this time. I've been given strict orders not to physically harm the boy."

I black out from exhaustion, shock, and relief.

...

**Part Four:**

**DEAN **

Cas, Rae and I stand around the devils trap, waiting as Sam performs the ritual to summon Crowley.

When the ritual is complete, Crowley stands in the circle, with a artificial hurt look on his face.

"Come now Sam, I thought we were above this demon trap business? I thought we'd grown?"

"I don't have the patience for this today Crowley." Sam says flatly. "My wife and son have been taken."

"Well I don't see how that's my pro-"

"_By demons_."

"Oh. Well I can assure you I did not authorize any abduction of the Winchester clan. I don't have a death wish." He replies.

"Well if it was done by demons, you can find out who, can't you? You _are_ the king of hell..."

"Why should I help? I am not your lap dog."

Sam steps into the demon trap, and grabs Crowley by the front of his collar. "_**You should do this, because if you don't, and my wife or son dies, I will come for you. And I will kill you**__."_

"Calm down Moose, I'll do it, but not because you threatened me. I'll do it because I like to make deals. If I do this for you, you owe me one."

"Fine by me." Sam says, and releases Crowley's collar.

He scrapes off a portion of the demons trap, and Crowley walks out of it.

"Where were Mackenzie and the child last seen?" He asks.

"We found her car on the side of the road." I reply, sensing Sam can't take much more of Crowley's nonsense. "I had it towed back here. It's in the driveway."

Crowley marches out the door, and we follow. He climbs onto the hood of the car, and slides through the windshield. He positions himself in the front seat then looks closely at the driver's side door. He runs his finger along the top panel, just below where the window used to be. Then he brings his finger up to his nose and sniffs.

"Good news," he says, climbing back out the windshield. "We have blood."

"How is that good news?!" Rae snaps.

"We have _demon_ blood. It would appear your little Psycho didn't go down without a fight Moose. With this blood, I can locate the demon responsible for the attack."


	20. The Good Doctor

I gaze out my barred window, as the sun sinks below the horizon.

It has been a month.

A whole month since we were taken, since I have seen my husband. He must be losing his mind. It has been thirty days of torture, and examination, of being cut open, and sewn back up. A month of yearning to catch a glimpse of my son, of hoping that they are not doing to him what they have done to me.

I have not lost hope. I _know_ they are coming for me. And when they do, they will bring hell down on my tormentors.

I sneer.

The door clanks open, and Doctor Deskins strolls in.

"And how is my loveliest patient today?" he asks.

I do not reply.

A demon follows the doctor, dragging a djinn by chains attached to manacles around his neck and arms.

The doctor had grown tired of my cursing and threats during evaluation, so now he uses the djinns magic as an anesthetic.

I stare at the djinn with pity. Who puts _him_ to sleep when _he_ is the patient?

I struggle to clutch onto reality for as long as possible, as the djinns toxins seep through my blood. Finally, I drift off into a dream world that the djinn creates for me.

I am back outside the bunker, playing with Johnny. Sam bounds through the front door, carrying a picnic basket for lunch.

"I didn't figure you two would want to come in for lunch on a day like this," he smiles.

"Thank you, this looks wonderful!" I reply.

I continue in my fantasy world, enjoying the company of my husband and son, until the doctor is finished with me.

As my mind settles back into the present, I feel my mental stability teetering.

The djinn is trying to be kind, I know, but the extreme contrast between fantasy and reality is giving me whiplash.

I sit up on the metal table, and examine my new cuts. I am sore all over, but a special salve the doctor has created, _from a variety of supernatural beings no doubt_, seems to heal up the wounds in record time. Two of the incisions have already turned to pink scars.

I rub the back of my neck, and drop off the table, to return to my cot in the corner.

As I lie there, and try to fall asleep, I think about the delicious retribution my family will take on this monster, and I have malicious dreams.

…

Part Two:

Rae

I am perched on the map table, rocking Bobby nervously, and watching the boys pace back and forth. The amount of tension and impatience that fills the room is nearly tangible.

I almost feel sorry for Crowley. When he arrives, the welcome won't be warm.

It has taken him almost a month to locate the rogue demon that took Mac and John, and Sam is enraged.

In fact, '_enraged' _is an understatement, Sam is_ broken_. He has become cold and detached, all brains, locking his feelings deep down so he can cope. The only emotion Sam ever displays anymore is anger.

Dean worries about his brother. He says Sam is acting like he did when he was soulless. That on top of his concern for Mac and John, have caused him to wear down quickly. His usually bright, mischievous eyes are dull and tired. The dark circles under his eyes are a testament to his latest pastime, sitting on the laptop all night, just searching for clues.

My nerves are frayed, and my heart is heavy. I can barely sleep. Mac is my teacher, and my best friend. Without her I'd have been monster chow long ago, and we don't even know if they are still alive.

Yet all we can do is sit, and wait.

The bunkers lights flicker, and suddenly Crowley is standing before us, holding a wrinkled piece of parchment.

Sam stalks toward him like a ravenous panther, and Crowley raises his hands in front of his chest in self-defense.

"Easy Moose, I've worked as fast as possible. Here-" he holds out the parchment. "I know Mackenzie is here, and she is alive. I saw her myself."

Sam stops short, and takes the paper. Crowley vanishes.

"It's coordinates. Let's go." Sam says.

Dean quickly kisses Bobby and I goodbye, "Be safe." He says. "Don't leave the bunker."

"I love you." I reply.

I watch as Castiel takes them by the arms, and they all disappear.

"Bring them back." I whisper.

...

Part Three:

Mac

I hold back my screams, the air hitching in my throat. Apparently for _this_ test I need to be conscious.

This experiment is hell. The doctor has electric cables running from various parts of my body. He tests my body and minds response to different currents.

"Hey Doc, at what point does this cross the line from science into kink?" I sneer, although it doesn't sound as tough as I had attended.

Still, the fact that I am in pain is irrelevant if I can get under this assholes skin.

"Be _quiet_ Mackenzie. The more you talk the longer this will take."

I grimace and lay my head back down onto the table. "Take your time. I've got aaaaall day."

He shocks me again, causing my back to arch, and my body to seize up.

Finally, he turns off the machine, and unhooks me.

"Sleep well." He says, as he leaves the room.

"_Fuck you_" I slur.

A few hours later, I manage to drag myself off of the table, and onto my cot. I grasp the bars of my window, and pull myself into a sitting position. I rest my head on the ledge, and stare out into the night.

Suddenly something catches my eye. A red flash in the distance. I strain, trying to make out the anomaly. It happens again, this time twice at once, and much closer. Next, a blinding white flash.

My frazzled mind struggles to put the puzzle pieces together, finally it clicks.

_They are here_.

I feel adrenaline surge through my body, and I smile.

Vengeance has come.

I climb out of the pitiful bed, and walk toward the door of my cell.

"Excuse me, guard?" I say loudly.

The giant demon walks toward me.

"Let me go. This is your last chance." I promise.

He chuckles "No."

The demons body flickers like red lightning flashing. His body drops like a curtain, revealing my husbands glorious, livid face.

"Back up!" He shouts.

I move out of the way of the door, just in time for him to kick it wide open.

"Johnny?!" I ask.

"Dean and Cas are on it." He replies.

We run out into the hall, adrenaline still fueling my movement.

I am so happy to see Sam, but something is wrong with him. Something inside him has snapped. He is different.

We reach the far side of the compound, just in time to see Dean pin the Doctor to the ground, his knife digging into his throat.

Cas is methodically killing off the various monsters in the Doctors collection, that are mindlessly attacking him. The djinn is not attacking. He stands tall in the corner, looking toward the sky, as Castiel moves toward him.

"Cas don't!" I cry. "Please, he is my friend."

He allows the djinn to flee.

"_Where's John_?!" Dean is screaming into the Doctor's face, but Ivan simply shakes his head and smirks.

"_Stand him up Dean_." Sam commands.

I reach out my hand, and Dean tosses me his knife, sensing what I wanted.

"_**Tell me where my son is, and who you are working for, you sick bastard, and I'll kill you quickly.**_" I offer.

"Not going to happen. Death by you will be far less painful than life with him if I were to betray him." He says calmly.

I press the knife into the soft flesh beneath his eye, causing blood to trickle down his face.

"_**TELL ME NOW**_." I demand.

"_My boss is the King of Hell_. You seriously didn't put that together, what with all the demons?" He smirks.

"I don't have the time or patience for your bullshit." I snap. "Crowley isn't that damn stupid. He _knows_ not to cross the Winchesters. _Now lets try this again_. _**WHERE IS MY SON**_?!"

I put more pressure on the knife, a warning.

"_I am not telling you anythi-_"

I thrust the knife all the way into the socket, and pry up, causing his eye to pop out.

He writhes, and falls back, squealing like the pig he is.

"_**NEXT EYE**_." I shout, leaning over him.

"Your son was _never_ here, Mackenzie." Ivan screeches insanely, "_You_ were my **payment** for delivering the child to my boss."

I feel all the adrenaline drain out of my body. My legs grow week, and a months worth of torture hits me like a ton of bricks.

I fall back, and Dean catches me, lifting me up into his arms.

"_**Who is your boss, and where is he**_?!" Sam takes over, pressing his own knife to the doctors sternum.

"**Bagdana**! I don't know where he is, _I don't_! I passed the snotty brat off to a delivery demon." The Doctor says in an attempt to save his other eye.

When the name Doctor Deskins provided registers, I bury my head into Deans chest begin to shake violently.

The Doctor sneers at my reaction, "_So you've heard of him_?"

That does it.

Sam loses control. He shoves his knife deep, and guts Doctor Ivan Deskins from his belly button to his chest. Blood splatters everywhere, but Sam does not stop. He stabs over, and over, in the neck, chest, and face.

He doesn't stop until Castiel pulls him away from the body.

I black out from the shock of the revelation, the insane amount of physical torture my body has been through, and the horror of seeing my husband coated in blood and smiling insanely.

…

**Part Four:**

**Sam**

I scrub myself, trying to get rid of every trace of blood on my body. I don't want to look like a mad serial killer when Mac wakes up, even if I feel like one.

Still, I don't regret killing that psycho, even a little.

Mac's reaction to the name Bagdana terrifies me.

If I gave in to the way I feel, I would be curled up in a corner, eating cobwebs or something. But I have to hold it together for my son, and for her. So I shove my emotions deep down, and deal with it.

I finally climb out of the shower, convinced that I am clean enough. I walk into our bedroom to see Mackenzie is still unconscious on the bed.

She came to for a few minutes when we brought her into the bunker, but she fell right back to sleep.

Whoever this Bagdana is, the revelation all but caused Mac to completely shut down. Her mind can't seem to cope with it. But she needs to come back. We need her, so that we can find this guy, and get our son back.

"Mac, wake up." I shake her gently, careful not to open her wounds.

"Sammy? You're here? Last night was real?!" She sits up strait, and then vomits into the waste can by the bed.

She lies back, and it looks like she may give up and go back to sleep.

"Mac, you can't." I say apologetically, "We need to get Johnny."

"I didn't think he was real. I thought he was just a myth. I should have known better." She says, tears running down her cheeks and into her matted hair. "Every terrible thing in this shitty world is real."

"I know. Who is he?" I ask.

"He is supposed to be Lilin's father, a past king of demons. But even in the legends, he is supposed to be dead. Killed by the angel Baerat. He is said to be one of the most powerful, and insane demons of all time." She says, her voice shaking. "If he is real, then he knows I killed Lilin. _And he has Johnny_."


	21. Home at Last

I grip the edge of the map table, and squeeze with all my might, as Dean digs the scalpel deep into my calf. He retraces the x shaped scar, until it is wide open again, revealing the soft tissue underneath.

Next he picks up an oversized pair tweezers, and digs them into my leg, feeling for the tracker that Doctor Deskins had supposedly inserted into my original injury.

Sam is holding me down by my shoulders so I don't accidentally slug Dean in the mouth.

"Hold still," he whispers into my ear, "It'll be over soon."

"Got it," Dean says. "Just let me stitch you up."

I really wish Cas were here, because then the next step wouldn't be necessary.

He has been gone for the two days I've been back, doing heaven only knows what.

Dean douses my leg in whiskey, which burns like hell, and inserts the sanitary needle into my flesh to stitch me up.

When he is finished I sit up and Sam lifts me off the table. He holds me in his arms for a moment, and then let's me stand on my own. Ever since I have been back, I've noticed Sam has kept a careful distance between us, and it breaks my heart. Something in him is different. He tells me he loves me, and I know its true, but something inside of him has broken. I feel like he blames me for Johns kidnapping. Maybe it is my fault…

Dean holds out his hand, and I am shocked at what is in it. Instead of the tiny mechanical gps, that I was expecting, it is a small vile of blood.

"10-1 odds this is the Doc's blood. He didn't use technology to find you. He used blood magic." Dean says.

"_Oh_!" I exclaim.

"What, what is it?!" Sam says, his hand jerking toward his gun.

"**Crowley**!" I shout at the ceiling.

Crowley appears in the room at my beckoning, which is unlike him.

"Oh you actually came..." I say shocked.

"Well I've got nothing going on." He admits. "I see Queen Winchester has been returned safely to her palace. Where is the snotty prince?" He cranes his neck looking for John.

"_My son was taken by Bagdana_." I struggle to keep my voice steady. "Are you familiar with his work?"

Crowley's eyes widen. "Bagdana is dead. Baerat killed him." He says fervently.

"I though so too, but apparently not." I reply.

Crowley now looks like he may be sick. "What do you want from me?"

"You used blood magic to locate the demon who took me?" I ask.

"Yes..." He says carefully.

"How does that work exactly? Does it have to be the specific persons blood? Or can it be a close relative?"

"Are you asking if I can use your blood to locate John?" Crowley asks.

"Yes. Mine or Sam's. Or possibly both?"

"I don't know. Blood magic is tricky, but it's worth a try."

"How long will it take?" I ask desperately.

"I'm not sure. The demon that I tracked had warded himself against blood magic. That's why it took so long to find him. But no one has ever used blood magic through a family members blood, so I'll wager that John isn't warded..."

"_Why are you being so helpful_?" Dean asks Crowley suspiciously.

"Because _if_ Bagdana is back, I may have competition. Better to release the Winchesters on him then have to get my own hands dirty. " He replies.

"Let's do this then." Sam says flatly.

"I have to go get the ingredients, I'll be right back." Crowley vanishes.

I sit on the floor, and bury my head in my knees. Rae drops down on the floor beside me and puts her arms around my shoulders. "We'll find him Mac. It'll be ok."

Crowley pops back into our living room in record time, an antique looking leather satchel in tow.

He waves his hand, and all the papers and trinkets that are piled on the coffee table fly into the floor. He begins to lay out assorted objects in a strait line. A wooden bowl, a bag of pigeon feathers, plastic baggy of some pink squishy stuff... I don't want to know. Several different spices and herbs, and a map

Crowley begins to mix feverishly, stopping to say something in Latin every so often.

Finally he reaches out his hand and looks at my expectantly.

I place my hand in his, and he slices open my palm with his dagger. I watch as the blood drips into the bowl.

"Moose?" He says.

Sam reaches his hand out, and does not flinch as the blade severs his flesh.

Crowley picks up the bowl and chants over it. Finally he pours the concoction onto the map, and lights it on fire. The potion burns up cleanly, leaving only one red pinpoint stain.

"It worked." Crowley says. "_Your son is there_." He points to the mark.

Dean picks up the map to examine it. "It's about seven hours from here..." He says.

"Let's go!" I jump up.

"Wait," Sam says.

"What do you mean wait?! We know where Johnny is! We have to go get him!" I cry.

"We don't know what we are walking into. How do we kill Bagdana when we arrive?"

"Leave that to me."

We all jump, and look into the corner, where apparently Cas has been sitting for some time.

"Sorry I didn't mean to startle you. I've been doing some inquiring around about Bagdana, and I know how to kill him." He says. "Angel blade, coated in a rams blood potion."

He holds up an Angel blade, coated with a sticky red layer.

"Cas, you are the best." I hug him.

He pulls me back to arms length and observes me with worried eyes. "You are so weak right now, Mackenzie. You hide it well, but I can feel it. How are you even standing?" He places both his hands on my cheeks, and closes his eyes.

I feel a month of sadistic torture and brutal experimentation melt off of my body.

"Good as new." He says.

We pack up our weapons, and gather back into the living room.

"Let's go get John." Sam commands stoically.

Crowley disappears.

Sam, Dean, and I lay our hands on Castiel's arms.

Rae stands in the middle of the floor, holding Bobby, with tears brimming in her eyes.

"Please come back safe. I love you all."

In the next second, we are standing in a huge valley. The only building in sight is a white farmhouse.

I stare at it confusedly. After the sirens and fences of the compound, this seems too..._easy_.

The only barrier is a low, strangely shaped concrete wall.

Castiel stares at it in dismay. "It's to ward away angels." He explains, "The entire house is surrounded by a giant sigil. I can't get in..."

"Give me your blade then." Sam orders.

"You don't understand, an angel has to wield it, or it won't work. Bagdana can _ONLY_ be killed by an angel." He responds.

I study the wall for a moment, then, "No problem. I mean, we'll have to sacrifice the element of surprise...but…"

I pull an olive green grenade out of my bag and grin sinisterly.

"He'll take the child and vanish, if you use that." The sudden arrival of Crowley's voice causes me to jump.

He is standing behind us, with a troop of at least 20 demons.

"You came to help?" Dean asks, "I thought you didn't want to get your hands dirty..."

"Well I couldn't just sit back and watch you screw it all up..." Crowley says as if that should be obvious.

"You aren't fooling anyone Crowley. _You like us_." I say.

"_Agree to disagree_," he replies. "Now, how are we doing this? The angel has to be the one wielding the blade, so we have to get him inside. But if we blow the wall, he'll run."

Cas steps forward, and pulls out his angel blade. He makes an incision in his hand, and presses his it to the ground, allowing the blood to trickle down into the ground.

He begins to chant in Enochian, and a scarlet line streams from his hand. It twists and turns in complicated patterns and angles. Finally, he stands up to survey his work.

Spread out before us is an enormous devils trap, that spans the entire length and width of the valley.

"He's not going anywhere now." Cas promises.

"Well then by all means, Mackenzie: _have at it_." Crowley says.

I pull the pin and toss the explosive toward the wall. It detonates, alerting every demon in the vicinity of our presence.

"Let's see what we're up against." I sigh.

Castiel takes point, and Crowley and his demons bring up the rear. Sam, Dean, and I weave through them like smooth running machinery. We have been hunting together so long, we know exactly how to play each part. Every demon that rises up against us is immediately put down. There is virtually no resistance, as we mow through the hoard.

When we enter the door, I blink hard. The interior is as far in contrast as it can possibly be from the exterior. It is a huge white room, the size of a football field at least.

"_Oh my god what is this, Time Lord technology_?" Dean shouts.

I look around, mouth hanging open like an idiot. The walls are lined with doors, each seeming to lead to a different room.

A dark skinned demon stands in the middle of the room, wielding an enormous sword.

"Is that-" I start to say.

"No he is a guard," Crowley interrupts. "His name is Aeshma. He is called the demon of wrath."

"Then he and I should get along _just fine_." Sam hisses, as he draws his demon blade.

Before any of us has a chance to react, Sam's pent up emotions are unleashed like an atomic bomb. I watch with a mixture of pride and awe, as he twists, dodges, and slices. Aeshma doesn't get one hit in, before Sam drives the demon blade deep into his sternum. He lights up red, and then falls lifeless to the floor.

Sam wipes the bloody blade on his pant leg, and sheaths it. He looks up and our eyes meet for a moment, before he looks away. I feel my stomach drop, but I don't have time to dwell on it.

"How do we know which door-" Dean begins to say, when one by one the doors begin to disappear, leaving only one at the far end of the room.

"Kill the guard...kill the illusion?" Crowley shrugs. We move forward, and file through the door.

Now we stand in a field, beneath the open sky. This bullshit is starting to get real old real fast. Forget Bagdana disappearing, he could just keep us wondering here for the rest if eternity.

Apparently, however, that is not his plan. In the middle of the field is a pale demon. He is dressed in a business suit, and has long blond hair flowing down his back.

In his arms is my son.

I feel the hairs rise on the back of my neck, and a blinding rage I have never before experienced currents through my veins.

I reach for my dagger, but Castiel places a restraining hand on my shoulder. "Bagdana, we have come for the child. Hand him over willingly, and we will leave you in peace. Do not, and I _will_ kill you." His angel blade slides out of his sleeve, and he grasps it tightly.

Bagdana stares at us for a full minute before answering. "I have considered your offer, and respectfully decline. Now, I have an offer for _you_. Leave in peace. Offer me this child in exchange for all of your lives. He will be raised as my son." His eyes focus on me. "You took my child, you owe me a debt. I will consider your spawn as payment in full."

"Lilin practically committed suicide. She knew what it meant to awaken my powers, and she made that choice on her own." I growl. "Do you know what her real error was? She messed with my family. You are making that same misstep Bagdana. Why don't you learn a lesson from your daughter's mistakes, and leave us be?"

"Have it your way." He hisses, and suddenly we are surrounded by dozens of demons.

"You're welcome." Crowley says, as he passes out Demon blades to each of us. Then to Cas: "Lets do this Angel. I'll get the child, you get the asshole."

The demons close in, and we engage. The field is all blood, red flashes of dying demons, and sun reflecting off of daggers. I try to make my way toward Bagdana, toward Johnny. I hear him crying, and adrenaline surges through my system. I slice and hack away. Sam hears it too, and he is a mechanical frenzy, no hesitation. We are side by side now, working as a team, flinging our blades, hewing into our enemies, but we make no progress toward Johnny.

I see Crowley out of the corner of my eye, wading through demons. He doesn't have to exert much effort; his personal guard takes care of most of the offensive against him.

Bagdana hands Johnny to a female demon that stands near him, as Castiel approaches. It is rare to see him so enraged, and it is hard to watch. I am used to calm, friendly Cas, but when he is upset, he is a sight to behold. He fights with immense skill and accuracy.

I turn my attention back toward Crowley, who has now reached the female demon and Johnny.

"I'll take that thanks." He smiles; as two of his demons grab the female by her arms, ripping them clean off. Before Johnny falls to the ground, Crowley snags him. Only now do I question our willingness to turn our baby over to the king of hell.

I yearn so badly to have him back in my arms, but Crowley vanishes.

Wherever he may be, Johnny is out of the fray, so now I can really focus on the battle.

A large demon advances toward me, dagger drawn. Before I have a chance to retaliate, Sam comes down on him with the force of a bull elephant, slicing his head clean off. The corpse flickers and dies out.

"_Son of a Bitch_!" I hear Dean cry. I turn toward him to see a demon has him pinned to the ground, and his nose is bleeding profusely. Sam also looks toward his brother, and in his moment of distraction, a knife-edge rips across his cheek. He turns back, and thrusts his dagger into the offending demons heart. I kick Dean's assailant off of him, and slice his throat with my blade.

With the help of what is left of Crowley's demons, and after many more wounds and mishaps, we demolish the opposing demons.

Now we stand in a half circle, and behold Castiel in all his vengeful might. Even at his full physical power, Bagdana is matching him blow for blow.

"CLOSE YOUR EYES!" Castiel shouts, and we do. A loud ringing pierces our ears as Cas takes his true form.

After several minutes, all is quiet. I cautiously open my eyes. Cas is standing over the lifeless body of Bagdana, triumphant. His angel blade sticks out of Bagdana's right eye.

Dean walks up to congratulate Castiel, but before he reaches him, Cas collapses on top of Bagdana's body.

"CAS!" Dean shouts. He turns Castiel over, to reveal a black spike sticking into his side.

"CAS BUDDY?! Stay with me!" he shouts.

Crowley reappears in the field much to my surprise. "Johnny is with Rae." He says. "What did I miss?"

"Cas is hurt!" I cry. "Can you take us back to the bunker?"

We gather around Crowley, and suddenly we are all back at home.

Dean and Sam lift Cas onto the couch, and Crowley examines the wound. "This is The Kings Blade. It has been missing for centuries…There is nothing I can do for your friend." He says apologetically.

Dean kneels by Cas's side, and pulls out the blade. Castiel's back arches, and then he goes limp.

"Cassie?" A tiny voice says. I turn to see my son, as he toddles across the floor toward Castiel. "Casseel?! Wakup!" he commands.

I reach for Johnny but Sam grabs my hand, his eyebrows knitted together.

John stares at Castiel for a moment, then he reaches out his tiny hand, and lays it gently on Castiel's face. "Cassie, wakeup!" he orders again.

Suddenly Castiel coughs and opens his eyes. "Hey there little buddy. I'm sure glad you're home." He smiles weakly.

I scoop John up, and he buries his head into my shoulder. "MOMMY!" he giggles. All the pure terror I have felt for a month melts away. My son is home.

Cas pulls back his trench coat and shirt, to reveal that the place where the Kings Blade had been is completely healed. Not even a scar remains. "Thanks Johnny." He says.

Johnny lifts his head up and smiles. Sam takes him from my arms, and holds him close. For the first time since I've been back, I see softness encroach in Sam's features.

Only a glimmer of it, but it is there. The look is quickly replaced by fierceness, almost as if Sam is daring any creature to try and pry John from his fingers.

…

SAM

I place my sleeping son into his crib reluctantly. Mac stands beside me, looking down at him. I bend down and kiss John on the head, then turn and leave the room. Mac follows, her head bowed low.

We walk into the bedroom and I sit on the bed. Mac drifts to the corner and begins to peel off her clothing. I haven't really been alone with her since before she was taken, so I hadn't seen her undressed until now. My breath hitches in my throat, and I look away from her, but the image pierces my mind. Her body has always had its collection of scars and bruises, hazard of the job, but now…her torso is covered with them. They are fully healed, thanks to Cas, but the amount of torture she must have endured to receive that amount scarring…I shiver

I stand up and leave the room quickly.

"Sam?" She calls, but I keep walking.

I stumble into the gym, and lean against the wall, breathing heavily. All the emotions I have been shoving down for a month surface. I don't know what exactly it is I am feeling. At first I think it is hate for Doctor Deskins, and for Bagdana. I sink to the floor as I realize who I am truly angry at.

This is my fault.

I should have been there to protect her, to protect Johnny. I got so comfortable with Mac's ability to protect herself that I forgot.

This is my burden; the people I love will _always_ be in danger.

I stand up and pace around the room. A cry of frustration escapes my lips, and I take my anger out on the nearest possible victim, our punching bag. I let my mind drift away into the methodical thud of my fists making contact with the bag.

My body shakes with rage.

Suddenly my swing is deflected.

Mac is standing between the bag and I, her fists raised. She swings at me, and I block her attack.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Giving you a chance to take your anger out on who you are really mad at." She says harshly.

Her words and her tone confuse me.

She swings again, and we fall into our regular routine of sparring, like we did when she first moved into the bunker. She continues to swing and dodge, never meeting my gaze.

Finally I lose patience with her. I grab her by the wrists and pin her arms above her head, shoving her against the wall.

I mean to confront her about her words, to ask her what she meant, but suddenly the mood changes.

Our sweating bodies are pressed up against each other, we both gasp for air. She looks up at me, her big green eyes full of rage and hurt.

I lower my head and kiss her passionately. It has been so long since I have had her, my body takes over.

She is all I want.

I push her down on the soft padding of the gym floor and kiss her neck, her jawline, and her forehead. A groan escapes her lips, and a cold chill runs up my spine.

She flips me over onto my back expertly, and I pull her on top of me. She runs her hands up my shirt, and pushes it up over my head. Her lips caress my collarbone, my chest, down my torso… I gasp for air.

"Mac," I inhale.

"Mhmm?" She says, still moving lower down my stomach with her lips.

"Uh...I forget."


	22. How to Break the Hunter's Curse

I wake up freezing, my bare body exposed to the drafty bunker air.

After our adventure in the gym last night, Sam and I had streaked to our bedroom like a couple of school kids. Our clothes are still lying in the gym floor. I think about what Dean's reaction will be when he finds them piled in the floor, and chuckle.

Sam is already up and getting dressed. He see's me reaching for the blanket, and picks it up off the floor, throwing it around my shoulders.

I sit cross-legged, watching him, as he slides his holster onto his belt.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"Got a case." He replies.

"Sweet. What are we hunting?"

"I thought I would give you the day off."

"Why? I feel fine... Cas can watch John, and-"

"I _**JUST**_..._don't want you to come_... Ok?" He snaps.

I lower my head.

I had hoped after last night Sam would stop acting this way, but apparently the problem wasn't solved. I hurry out of bed and pull on my clothes.

I walk toward him slowly, and raise my hands to his ridiculously perfect cheekbones.

"Sam I'm sorry," I look up at him through my too long bangs. "I should have done something... it all just happened so fast, I didn't have time to react..."

"You think I'm mad at **YOU** Mackenzie?! This wasn't your fault, it was mine. I should have **been** there. I should have **protected** you, and I was _**SLEEPING**_! I should have-"

I put my hand over his mouth.

"That...is...the... **DUMBEST** thing I've ever heard!" I feel my temper flaring. "You can **NOT** blame yourself for this! You should have...what? Followed me every day to make sure I don't stub my damn toe? You KNOW me better than that Samuel! I wouldn't allow it. I am a goddamned hunter. I always have been! I'm not some damsel in distress, or a princess who needs saving. You don't have to **PROTECT ME** _dickwad_. We have each other's backs as equals. We protect our child together. But you know, sometimes, things happen. They do! Especially to hunters! What could you have done if you had been there Sam? You couldn't have stopped this, so blaming yourself is just... It's unacceptable."

Sam looks at me, wide eyed after my rant. Suddenly a grin plays across his face.

"**That**." He says.

"_What_?"

"That right there. That's why I love you." He chuckles. "Nobody else in this whole world could call me a dickwad, and take the weight of the world off my shoulders in the same rant."

"_Well_." I say, my chin raised in defiance.

He takes my face in his hands gently, and kisses me. My anger melts, and I brush his hair out of his face.

"You and me," I say softly, "We're a team. No matter what comes at us, angels, demons, humans, we face it together. That's how we keep the hunters curse at bay. That's how we survive. And we _will_ survive Sam, just like we always do."

"_You're right_, as usual." He concedes. "Fine. The police found a missing hunter's body with tree roots grown clean through his corpse."

"And?"

"He's only been missing for two days."

"Oh. Wood Nymphs." I reply, my forehead creasing with annoyance.

"That's what it sounds like." He sighs.

"I _hate_ those bitches." I grimace.

I finish gearing up, and saunter out into the living room.

Apparently Dean knew I wouldn't agree to sit this one out, because Cas is already here, and is holding a giggling Bobby.

When he sees us come in, Dean points his finger at us, "Gross, guys. Just..._yuck_."

"Oh **please**, Dean, name one surface of this bunker you and Rae **HAVEN'T** done it on." Sam replies, as he heads into Johnny's room, and lifts him out of his baby bed. Johnny immediately toddles to Castiel, and tries to climb up his trench coat.

"Nymphs are these creatures that live in the woods. Their voices lure men into the woods, where they proceed to use the men for...um... reproductive purposes...and then they kill them black widow style. They're not that difficult to kill, individually, but they travel in swarms, which makes it a lot harder." I debrief Rae, who has never hunted a Nymph before. "The weapon of choice is a steel stake, coated in motor oil. Weird, I know, but effective."

"What did people do before motor oil?" She wonders.

"Die." I shrug.

We gather our weapons, including the stakes, and finish packing.

Once we get everything sorted, we load up into the Impala and head out.

Dean cranks up the radio, and the wind blows through my hair. It feels so good to be on a regular hunt again that I may just explode with joy.

Sam snags my waste, pulls me into the middle of the seat, and puts his arm around my shoulders. I sink down into his side, and smile contentedly.

Once we arrive at the Mooresgrove Hunting Lodge, we all unload and weave in through a sea of camouflage and body odor.

Rae looks like she may be sick.

We check in as guests, and book a suite.

"Oh my god, our own rooms?" I tease, "How _ever_ will I sleep without Deans snoring?"

"I don't snore." Dean throws a fluffy couch pillow at my head. I dodge it; Sam catches it, and chucks it back at Dean.

We disburse to our various rooms, and unpack.

I slide on my olive green army pants, and black tank top. Sam sticks to his general jeans and plaid look.

We meet up with Rae and Dean at the front door, and head for the forest toward where the last victim was found.

We stop at the edge of the woods.

"Nymphs go after men, exclusively, so we need to stay together, or these two dumbasses could get lured in." I say, motioning toward Sam and Dean.

"_Jeez_ Mac have a little faith in us." Dean gripes.

We pick our way through the underbrush carefully, and stay within eye range of each other.

As we walk, we approach a decaying, eye level, stone wall.

"Random..." I say.

"You're random." Sam picks, and lifts me over the wall.

"Put me down you shit. I can climb a wall." I gripe.

"Maybe, but I will use any excuse I can get to grope you." He laughs.

I grin to myself.

Ever since our talk, Sam has dropped the dark and tortured shit, and gone back to his original ridiculous self, and I love it.

I walk a few steps forward, and am immediately caught up in a thorn bush.

Rae saunters up beside me, helping me to hack away at the tangled mess.

"Sam seems to be doing a lot better..." She raises her eyebrows mischievously. "What the heck did you two _do_ last night?"

"It wasn't so much last night that got to him, although _yes_ last night was _sexcellent_." I chuckle.

Rae does not find my pun amusing.

"Then what did finally break that mood?" She asks.

"I confronted him this morning about the way he has been acting. Turns out he was pissed at himself. He felt like it was _his_ fault that Johnny and I were taken." I reply.

"Well that's just stupid." She points out.

"That's what I told him, and- _goddammit_! **Will you useless turds come get me untangled for christ's sake**?!" I yell back at the boys.

We stop hewing, and look back toward the wall. They are nowhere to be seen.

"You have _got_ to be _fucking_ kidding me." I say, as the thorns mysteriously release my pant legs. "Those _**BITCHES**_!"

Rae and I climb back over the wall, and look around.

Sam and Dean have taken off, no doubt in response to the Wood Nymphs beckoning.

I track them through the woods, and it is **NOT** easy. It's hard enough to follow some random dumbass in this thick underbrush, but two fully trained hunters on a deranged, magic-fueled mission to get some Nymph ass are practically undetectable.

Suddenly a tree root rips out of the ground, grasping Rae by the calf, and dragging her backward. Before I can react, she pulls out her machete, and rips through the root, sending it flailing off to the side.

"_They know we're coming_." I say darkly. "We have to hurry."

We take off, chopping our way in the direction that it seems the boys were headed.

Every step becomes a battle, as thorns grasp at our flesh, and vines grapple around our legs.

We slash and hack, blood dripping from our arms.

Finally we enter a clearing, and stop.

At the far end of the clearing stands a group of tall women with flowing hair, and willowy limbs.

The tallest flounces forward, and a malicious grin plays on her face. To her left and right lay Sam and Dean, clearly in a trance.

Plants are springing out of the ground, and wrapping around their bodies, in case they should come to their senses.

The head Nymph giggles, as she approaches me. Despite her naked cheerleader-y appearance, I know the Wood Nymph is a powerful foe.

I do not attack.

"My what _veracious_ mates these men have." She calls back to her sisters. "To fight through this forest is no mere trifle. They may prove difficult to kill..."

She smiles, revealing pointed teeth, somewhat akin to a piranhas. "Still, it's well worth it, for such prizes." She says, looking back at Sam and Dean. "Our bodies have long craved such perfect specimens. Nearly all we ever get here are sweaty hunters."

"Oh, but they _**ARE**_ hunters." I say, my eyes flashing with rage. "Just not the kind you're used to."

I hear an uncomfortable murmuring arise amongst the Nymphs. "_Hunters_?"

"Here's the thing, sweetheart," I growl, "These men? They're **claimed**. So to avoid further confrontation and/or limb severing, I suggest you take your tree whore asses back into the forest, and stay the fuck outta my way."

"Oh dear, you ARE bossy." The Nymph chirps playfully. "If you _must_ try and mark your territory, I hope have brought some pretty impressive weaponry."

My machete is in my hands still, from fighting the forest. I swing it professionally as I pull my stake out of it's holster, and Rae follows suit.

When the Nymphs see the weapons, they hiss menacingly, and their entire visage alters. They turn tree bark gray, and their lips draw back, exposing their teeth. Their hair becomes stringy and wet, and their eyes turn a milky green.

I walk toward the leader, who is slowly backing toward her sisters.

"God you bitches are _ugly_ without makeup." I grin, as I pick up my pace.

I overtake her easily, and with two swift slices I hamstring her, bringing her to her knees. I bring the stake up, and shove it into her chest. She turns into a pile of ash before me, and I look up to see the rest of the Nymphs swarming toward me, enraged.

Rae reaches my side, and we work together, slicing and stabbing. One by one we reduce the Nymphs to ash, until none remain.

Finally, we turn our attention to the boys, who are now fully unconscious.

I run to Sam, and begin to rip away the vines and roots that are slowly strangling him.

He gasps and sits up, looking around wildly. "Mac?!"

"Hey loser." I kiss him on his forehead.

"_Shit_, did they get us?" He says sheepishly.

I shake my head yes. "And you wanted to leave me behind." I tease.

He holds out my bloodied arm, and observes it somberly. I fear for a moment that he may turn into brooding Sam again, but instead, he pulls me into his lap, and kisses me roughly.

"I love you, and I'm so glad you were here to save me." He winks.

"Oh get a room." Dean gags.

We make our way back through the woods, which is surprisingly easy when the plants aren't trying to kill you.

Once we reach the lodge, we pass into the lobby.

A group of hunters stand near by, mumbling. One of them looks me over and elbows his buddy in the ribs.

"Amateurs." He guffaws.

"Yeah," his buddy agrees. "If you can't handle the trees get out of the forest cupcake."

I turn toward them, intending to kick their asses. Sam swipes me up by my waste, and throws me over his shoulder, kicking and screaming.

"Sorry gentlemen, we thought we'd take the _ladies_ hunting." He rolls his eyes.

"Baaaaad idea." Dean adds in. "Women are useless in the woods."

Rae smacks Dean in the back of the head, and he scoops her up in his arms.

Sam carries me to our room, and shuts the door behind him, locking it.

He tosses me onto the bed, and as soon as I hit the mattress, I bounce up into a crouching position. "_I'm gonna kick your ass_." I threaten.

"_Nope_." He smiles playfully, and pounces on me, pinning me to the mattress. I twist and wiggle trying to escape, but Sam doesn't budge.

Finally, I give up, and glare up at him, squinting with mock anger.

He looks at me for a moment, and then dips his head, kissing my forehead softly.

I wiggle my arms out of his grasp, and run my hands up his spine. I stop at his broad shoulders and grasp his over-shirt. He sits up, and I come with him, so that I am straddling his lap. I pull his shirt down his shoulders, as I lean up to kiss his neck.

He pulls his arms out of his sleeves, and runs his hand down my jawline. He grasps my shoulders, and pulls me into another kiss. His hands trail along my shoulder blades, and down my back. He pulls my shirt over my head, and unsnaps my bra deftly, tossing it across the room. He then pulls his tank top over his head, and drops it on the bed. I run my hands down his chest and torso, then I unbutton his pants. My fingers tease along the top of his boxers, and a groan escapes his lips. He stands up on the bed, dragging me up with him, and pushes my back against the enormous headboard.

My back arches, as his kisses his way down my neck, chest, and stomach. He stops at the top of my shredded cargo's, and unbuttons them with his teeth. A cold chill races down my spine, as he removes my pants, letting them fall from his hands to the floor.

His lips graze on top of my thong, and he looks up at me wickedly, causing all the air to leave my lungs.

"O-oh my god."

He pulls back, grabs me, and lays me on the bed.

His thumbs slide into the sides of my thong, and shimmy them down my legs.

My stomach quakes as he climbs off the bed, and pulls me to the edge of it.

His strong hands run up my legs as he parts them.

I close my eyes, but I hear his pants hit the floor, and my heartbeat quickens.

He slides his hand under my back, and lifts me up, so that our lips meet.

My eyes roll into the back of my head as he enters me, and I gasp.

"You know, those Nymphs had one thing right." I breathe.

"_What's that_?" He whispers in my ear.

"Sex with you is _totally_ worth dying for."

...

I lay in Sam's arms, panting.

He is staring up at the ceiling, his eyebrows pushed together. This bugs me, because _**I**_ for one can't stop smiling.

Suddenly, he leans over top of me, his eyes pensive.

"What?" I whisper, brushing a tuft of hair out of his face.

"Hold still." He commands.

He starts at my neck.

Kissing gently. Not in a sexual way, just a swift kiss, here and there.

I can't make sense of it.

He kisses his way down my body, and when he reaches my stomach I realize what he is doing.

He is kissing every single tiny scar on my body.

"_W-why_?" I ask, as tears begin to flow down my cheeks.

"Because, I wasn't there when they happened. I know it wasn't my fault, I do, but I just always want to be there to kiss you when you're hurting. I love you."

"_I love you too_." I whisper, astonished at how brightly my husbands battered soul still shines.


	23. Prologue

_Prologue_

**Part One: **

**Sam.**

I sit up strait, and pull my pistol from under my pillow. My senses scream danger.

"Whoa! EASY DAD!" John says, panicked, as he lights a flame in the palm of his hand, so I can see his face.

"You're gonna have to get sneakier than that, Johnny, if you want to take your dad by surprise." Mac says, from somewhere in the darkness.

"Dang it." John replies, and flips the light on, letting the fire in his palm die out.

I look at my son, and smile. He is already up and fully dressed. His shiny new revolver hangs from his belt, right next to Macs rusty old poker, that he carries everywhere.

My eyes travel to my wife, who is sitting up also, hunting knife lying in her lap.

She grins at me, and shakes her head.

John's excitement is something I fully understand.

Today, he turns sixteen years old.

Today is his first hunt.

I stretch and climb out of bed.

"Get out, and let us get dressed, pest." I sigh. "We'll find you a hunt soon enough."

"No need." John grins. "Bobby's got it covered."

"Of course he does." I sigh.

Bobby is a brilliant kid.

He already plays the part of his namesake for us 99% of the time, finding us cases, and researching monsters for us. He is our 'FBI Supervisor' on a regular basis.

Even outside hunters have taken to using him as a resource, as his photographic memory catalogues cases like a file cabinet.

I shove my son out the door. "Hurry!" He says, as I shut it in his face.

I turn around, and lean back against the door, exhaling. "I'm gonna accidentally shoot him one of these days, if he keeps pulling stunts like that." I point out.

"That'll teach him not to do it again." Mac smiles.

"Well something has to." I laugh. "Locks certainly don't stop him anymore. Sixteen, and already better then you ever were at picking locks."

"Oh shut up asswipe." She says, as she climbs out of bed. "Let's do this before I change my mind."

She pulls on her jeans and tank top, as I slide my plaid over-shirt on.

I exit our room, and walk into the kitchen, to find Bobby and John sitting closely, pouring over Bobby's laptop.

Rae is up, cooking breakfast, and Dean is leaning bleary-eyed in the corner of the counter that runs along our kitchen.

"Wake up Dean." I smile, and elbow him in the ribs. "We've got a _looooong_ day ahead of us."

"Too damn early man." He gripes.

I walk up behind the boys to see what kind of hunt they have in mind.

Spread out on the webpage is a lineup of teen girls wearing bikinis.

"I thought you were working on a hunt," I say into their ears, causing them to jump.

"We are!" Bobby says nervously. "I promise Uncle Sam, this isn't what it looks like!"

"Seriously dad, read the article!"

I skim over the article, and roll my eyes.

"Sum it up for me Sam." Dean orders. "I'm too damn tired to think for myself."

"Well someone is killing teen pageant girls. About a month ago one girl, little miss first-place-every-pageant disappeared. Now the remaining girls on the circuit are being picked off one by one, and every single one of them has their face clawed off." I explain.

"Alright, it's not that far from here. We'll look into it." Dean sighs.

"Sweet." Bobby says.

"Not you." Rae interjects. "You've still got nearly a year to go before your first hunt Bobby."

"Mom _**COME ON**_!" Bobby pleads. "I'm just as good at hand to hand as John is, and I'm _**DEFINITELY**_ smarter!"

For that comment John shoves Bobby out of his chair and into the floor.

I offer him my hand, and pull him to his feet. "Listen to your mom Bobby. She is just looking out for you." I point out.

He grimaces, and sits back down beside Johnny, apparently choosing to ignore the physical violence.

Mac finally comes in the kitchen, and I debrief her on the case.

"Leave it to Dean's son to find the one case with bikini clad teenage girls." She grins, and tousles Bobby's hair.

"Not that it matters," he groans, smacking his head down on the table.

"Give it up Bobby." Dean sighs, "You know your when moms mind is made up, you aren't gonna change it."

Bobby heaves a sigh, "But you _neeeeed_ me."

"Next year son." Rae says.

As John loads the weaponry in the trunk, Dean climbs in the drivers seat, I take the passengers seat, and Mac scrambles into the back.

We take off, and John leans up over the middle of the seats, cranking up Asia.

I cringe, as 'Heat of the Moment' plays. I _still_ hate that song.

Three hours later, we pull into our hotel, and I walk toward the trunk to grab my suitcase.

"_Wait_, dad! I'll...umm...I'll get it!" John offers suspiciously.

My forehead creases, "What did you do?" I ask, walking toward the trunk again.

I open it, and there, scrunched up in the fetal position, and looking seventeen shades of green, is Bobby.

"God_dammit_ Bobby!" I hiss.

Bobby sits up, and says something like this: "_Vis brttr blak porngives ten prshb_"

"What?"

"It's better to ask forgiveness then permission," John translates, helping his carsick cousin stumble out of the trunk.

"**Dean**!" I call, around the car. Dean saunters back, and stops short when he sees Bobby.

"Have you lost your damn mind son?! Your mother is going to _kill_ me!" He grabs Bobby by the back of his shirt, dragging him toward the hotel room.

Mac walks up beside me, eyes wide. "Rae is gonna shank us." she says, as lays her hand on Johns shoulder firmly, guiding him into the room behind Bobby. They both sit at the end of the bed, staring up ashamedly.

Mac stands before them, her hands on her hips. "Why do I get the feeling this was Johns idea?"

"Because it was." John replies. "It's my fault, don't be mad at Bobby."

"I'm pretty sure you didn't shove Bobby in the trunk against his will..." Dean points out.

"No but I talked him in to it." John admits.

"You can call your Aunt then, and explain to her why her son is not at home." Mac orders, handing John her cell.

John takes the phone, and dials the number. He puts the phone on speaker, and holds it away from his face.

"Hello?" Rae's voice comes over the phone, "Mac?"

"No this is Johnny..."

"_What's wrong_? Are you in trouble?" Rae says worriedly, "Where's your mom?"

"I'm here Rae. We're fine. Johnny has something to tell you." Mac says.

"Ok?"

"_Ummm_ I sort of convinced Bobby to stow away in the trunk of the Impala so he could join the hunt..." John says, bracing himself for an inevitable chewing out.

There is a long pause. Finally Ray sighs. "I suppose I should have seen this coming. Bobby, you can join the hunt. But when you get back, you are so grounded from your laptop."

"Same for you." Mac adds to John.

The boys groan in unison, but the disapproval of their punishment is far overshadowed by their excitement for the hunt.

...

**Part Two:**

**John**

I fiddle nervously as dad and Uncle Dean are in the police station. Bobby and I sit side by side, and mom stands outside, leaning against the car.

I know she is mad at me for sneaking Bobby on the hunt, but going without him just seemed wrong. We do everything together, and he is really my best friend…

Even at school we are rarely apart. Bobby jumped ahead a grade, thanks to how big of a nerd he is. Honestly he could probably already be in college, but he seems content to hang back with me. So going on my first hunt without him would just be wrong.

"Will you stop that?" Bobby says, looking at me uncomfortably.

"What?" I say, coming out of my trance.

"Lighting your fingers on fire. If you scorch Babies leather dad will kill you. We're already in enough trouble."

"Oh," I say, looking down to realize that my thumb is indeed on fire. "Sorry."

I put out the finger flame, as the rest of the family climbs back into the car.

"So Bobby was right, something is definitely going on. The first girl went missing about two weeks ago. They still haven't found her body. But the other three victims bodies seem to have been put on display." Dad says, handing me a folder of pictures.

Bobby winces at the carnage. Each victim is dressed in a ball gown, propped up in a different pose, like giant Barbie Dolls. There is nothing left of their faces, but ribbons of bloody flesh. It looks like something took a box cutter to them.

I shut the folder, and pass it to Mom. She opens it, and stares at it. I can tell that she has been hunting her whole life, because the gore doesn't faze her.

"I have a theory, if anyone is interested..." Bobby says quietly.

"Shoot," dad replies.

"Well, these pageants...they get really competitive. The first girl, Laura Kenney, she was always winning. What if one of the other girls...killed her, and now her spirit is back taking out all that bitchy anger on the other competitors? I did some research, and each of the other victims won a pageant right before they were killed..." He finishes.

"You think a teenage girl would kill another over a beauty contest?" Uncle Dean says, eyebrows raised.

"It makes sense" I reply, scooting forward. "From what I've read, these pageants get pretty violent... It's like sports for the perpetual prom queen..."

"It's bullshit is what it is." Mom says suddenly, I look over and she looks like she might punch someone. "These girls feeling so goddamned pressured to be _'perfect'_, or what society considers as perfect anyway, that they would kill for the prize? It's _**sick**_!"

"Not to change the subject," Bobby interjects, "but we don't know where suspect número uno's corpse is... how are we gonna salt and burn it?"

"Start at the root of the problem, I guess..." Dad says. "We need to attend a pageant."

"Stop at that gas station," Mom commands, "I'll grab a local paper. They probably have a schedule..."

She climbs out, and walks in. A few minutes later, she comes out carrying a paper. Her face is still scrunched up with annoyance, and I wonder how everyone in the parking lot doesn't shrivel before her gaze. She's never laid a hand on me in my whole life, but I would rather drive into a wall then piss her off. She is one _scary_ woman. She climbs in, and slams the door. "We are in luck." She says, "There's a pageant tonight at the town civic center."

"_Ummmm_ maybe you should wait at the hotel... We don't need you to be taken to jail." Dad suggests carefully.

God bless that brave, _brave_ man.

"I'll be nice." Mom promises, but the look on her face suggests otherwise.

We drive back to the hotel and change. Luckily dad thought to grab one of Aunt Rae's dresses for mom, because mom doesn't generally bother with anything fancy. She comes out of the bathroom, and dad's eyes widen. I laugh, because she looks good, but super uncomfortable. As we load into the car, I try to remember the last time she dressed up, and the only thing I can think of is Uncle Deans wedding, and that was when I was only three. This should be fun to watch...

I fidget in my suit, loosening my tie. "Nervous?" Mom asks.

"A little," I admit, shrugging.

"About the girls or the case?" She winks.

"Definitely the case." I say. "Girls don't scare me... that would be Bobby."

Bobby elbows me in the side, and I smack the back of his head.

We pull into the civic center parking lot, and file in, walking toward the seats listed on our tickets. Bobby looks at the stage, and turns a weird shade of gray. Girls streak back and forth, in and out of the curtains.

No sooner do we sit down, then a hassled looking man with gray hair and a crooked bow tie approaches is.

"_Excuse me young men_," he addresses Bobby and I, "But two of our escorts have fallen ill, and we desperately need replacements. Would you be so kind?"

"E-escorts?" Bobby stammers, "What exactly does that job entail?"

"Why, you simply walk one of the partnerless young ladies onto, and off of the stage. Please, help an old man out... If I don't find someone, the girls mothers might eat me alive."

"Of course, we'll do it." I step in, before the old guy has a heart attack.

As we follow the man back behind the double doors, Bobby hisses in my ear "I _cannot_ believe you volunteered me for this!"

"Well you wanted to hunt..." I grin. "How better to find the killer then get in good with the ladies?"

He glares at me, but has no retort.

The old man shows us to our designated "partners" for the night.

We find mine first, and I have to force myself not to stare stupidly.

Her hair falls in loose brown curls around her back, and her blue eyes are breathtaking. She isn't in her dress clothes yet; she is wearing jeans and an oversized AC/DC t-shirt.

The old man starts to introduce me, "Maya, this is..."

"John." I finish as he trails off, realizing he doesn't know my name.

When I offer my hand to shake, Maya takes it, and looks down. Her ears turn red, as she introduces herself. "Hi, I'm Maya."

The old man takes Bobby to find his partner, leaving Maya and I to talk.

"Pleased to meet you." I grin at her. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm a complete failure tonight, I've never really been exposed to the _'pageanting'_ universe."

"Well you aren't missing out, I promise." She huffs.

"You don't like doing the pageants?" I ask, eyebrows raised.

"Not even a little." She groans. "It's so superficial. And all these girls are _bitches_."

"Then why do you do it?" I inquire.

"My mom..." She starts to say, but is cut short.

"Maya Evangeline Wright! You aren't dressed yet!" screams a stuffy woman, or possibly a man in drag... "Do you realize how many points they dock for tardiness?! You'd never win!"

Suddenly the woman notices me standing there awkwardly.

"Ooooo! Is this your new escort!? He is dreamy! You'll do nicely!" She says, and pats my cheek. "But you had better not mess up, or you'll never work in pageantry again!"

"Well then thank _god_ I'm only here for today." I reply sardonically, not abashed by her empty threat.

Maya's eyes widen, shocked at my apparent barefacedness.

Her mother grabs her by the wrist, dragging her toward the changing room. "We have to get you dressed, and off to makeup!" She screeches, ignoring my response.

The whole room is full of screaming girls, cat fights, and squeals of delight, and I suddenly remember that poor Bobby is smack dab in the middle of it all.

I finally locate him standing awkwardly in the middle of a group of cackling girls, all flirting with him shamelessly. One girl has her arm woven through his proudly, and is outlining her future career in modeling for him. I approach, and she looks me over like a hungry hyena. Gross.

"Hi" she chirps. "My names Candy."

"John." I reply shortly. "I need to speak to my cousin... privately."

"How ya doin' so far?" I ask, as we move to the side of the room.

"This sucks. That girl is an insufferable airhead." He sighs. "But on the bright side I don't have to talk at all."

"Well has her yapping given you any clues?" I ask.

"No. I don't think she has a single intelligent thought bouncing around in that head." He gripes.

"Well, hang in there dude." I slap him on the shoulder, and walk toward where Maya is now standing, a fluffy pink robe. Her mother is fussing over her hair, and shooting her endless instructions.

Finally, it is time to line up. Maya slides off the pink robe, revealing a sparkling teal gown. She looks amazing, and I can see why she hates it. The dress is so tight; she can hardly afford the luxury of breathing.

"So, what's my role in the madness?" I ask.

"Just take my arm, and follow my lead." She sighs.

"I think I can handle that." I smile down at her.

We wait, as names are called, and the contestants make their appearances.

Bobby goes out before me, escorting his partner. He waits just behind the curtain for her, as she presents her talent. She sings, and despite her annoying-as-fuck demeanor, she has a pretty good voice. When she is finished, Bobby walks out on stage, escorting Candy back to her place in queue.

"What's your special talent?" I whisper in Maya's ear.

"_Death metal_." She replies seriously, and I can't decide if she is joking or lot.

I finally come to the conclusion that she is not, when her mother hands her a petit violin case.

She passes it to me. "When we get on stage, could you open the case for me, so that I can take it out. When I am done, bring the case back out..."

"Got it." I smile. "Smooth sailing."

Finally Maya's name is called. I offer my arm, and escort her on stage. When we reach the microphone, I hold the violin case out flat in my arms. Maya opens the case, and runs her hand lovingly across the mahogany neck, before pulling the violin and bow out.

I close the case, and walk off stage, but stay where I can see her.

She stands tall, and holds the violin to her chin. I don't know what I expected, but it was not this. I recognize the song from the first cord, and a chill runs down my spine.

_She is playing Carry On My Wayward Son._

My eyes wonder over the crowd, and I see mom. She is smiling ear to ear, and her eyes sparkle with tears. This is the song she sang me to sleep with for the first several years of my life. I smile at her, and then my eyes trail back to Maya.

Watching her play is breathtaking. It's like she is a whole different person. Not the awkward punk, or the stunning beauty queen, but a completely new creature.

She hits every not perfectly, and smiles, triumphant. I take the case out to her, and wait while she packs the violin away again.

As I escort her off the stage, I whisper in her ear, "That was incredible!"

"I'm glad you thought so, because my mother-"

"**MAYA**! We **AGREED** on-"

"We didn't agree on anything. You told me what you wanted, and I decided to go another route." She replies, her chin poked out defiantly.

Her mother moves on close to her face. "You listen to me you little _bitch_, I have done **TOO MUCH** for you, for you to be messing this up with your stupid attitude."

"Hey, why don't you show a little respect for your daughter!?" I say, my temper flaring, as I step between them. "She did an _amazing_ fucking job."

"You're lucky she needs you to win, or I'd have you thrown out!" She spits, and storms off.

I turn to Maya, and see that a tear has spilled onto her cheek. "I'm sorry." I say, as I brush the tear off with my thumb.

"It's fine. I just want this mess to be finished so I can change." She puts on a brave smile.

As the pageant drags on, I walk Maya on and off the stage several more times. We laugh, and talk, and dodge her mother. Finally the night is over, and Maya wins the crown. I'm not shocked really; she is obviously the most beautiful girl here. Candy wins second, which she is not pleased with.

Maya hands the crown to her mother, and walks into a room I hadn't noticed before. Her mother follows her, and slams the door in my face, locking it. I lean against the door, waiting to make sure Maya is ok.

Bobby seeks me out, looking more annoyed then I've ever seen him. "Oh my _god_ that chick is hard to ditch." He gripes.

"I'm waiting for Maya." I say. "I'm going to see if I can get a date out of her… you know… for the case's sake."

"_Riiiiiight_… the case." Bobby wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

I punch him in the arm. "Go tell mom and dad where I am douche. I'll be out as soon as possible."

Bobby leaves, and I stand by the door, arms folded across my chest, observing the general mayhem. It doesn't take long for everyone else to clear out, but Maya and her mom are still in the room yelling at each other.

Suddenly their bickering falls silent. I strain my ears, listening. Not a sound. Then Maya screams.

"MAYA!" I scream, beating on the door. "_**MAYA ARE YOU OK**_?!"

"**GET AWAY FROM ME LAURA**!" she screams, "What did I ever do to you?!"

Suddenly it clicks. Maya won tonight. She is next on Laura's spirit's hit list.

I back up a few steps, and kick the door in. As I enter the room, my hands envelope in fire as a pure reflex. "**LAURA**" I yell.

The spirit turns at me, and screeches.

"Bring it _bitch_!" I hiss, pulling a flask of rock salt out of my back pocket. The specter creeps toward me, yowling.

I fling the salt and her form flickers, causing her to vanish momentarily. I look around, and see Maya's mom hovelled in the corner, her head covered. She lets out a petrified scream. "I DIDN'T MEAN TO! I DIDN'T MEAN TO! I DIDN'T MEAN TO!"

I walk over to her. "Didn't mean to what, Mrs. Wright?"

"I DIDN'T MEAN TOOOOOO" she says again, eyes wild.

Maya runs up to her mother, shaking her arm violently. "MOM?! Didn't mean to what?"

"You killed that girl didn't you." I say, the realization turning my stomach.

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO."

Maya's eyes widen, and she stumbles back. "You killed Laura?!" she breathes.

"Where is the body." I ask Mrs. Wright flatly.

"NO."

I crouch down in front of the psycho, so that we are eye level. "Mrs. Wright, I _assume_ you have what may or may not pass as some semblance of love for your daughter. _**IF**_ that is true, then you need to tell me where that body is, or your daughter _will_ die."

The woman stops her hysterics, and looks at me. Suddenly her eyes droll in her head, and she screams at me. She lunges for me, trying to choke me. I am not willing to hit a woman, so I back away letting her miss me.

"_**MOM STOP**_!" Maya cries, grabbing her mother by the arm. Her mother lashes out, striking Maya in the face. She falls back and hits her head, knocking her out.

Mrs. Wright starts mumbling, "No! No I didn't mean to… the police wont believe me. I'll bury her in the garden. I'll bury her in the garden… in the garden…"

Blood begins to pool under Mayas head, and I am desperate to get her help, but I need to know what garden Mrs. Wright buried Laura's body in.

"In the garden with the roses. Mothers garden will make a nice grave. In the garden… in the garden…and she won't win anymore..." Mrs. Wright cackles.

This woman is officially insane.

I dial 911, and explain the situation. Mom, Dad, Uncle Dean and Bobby find me, and we wait. The ambulance and police arrive within minutes, and they take Maya to the hospital, as I explain to the police what happened, and what Mrs. Wright said, excluding the bit about their being a ghost involved, and where the body was buried.

Mrs. Wright is taken away by the police, and we are allowed to leave.

"We need to find out where Maya's grandma lives." I sigh, exhausted. I explain Mrs. Wrights rambling about Laura being buried in her mother's garden.

Dean throws me the keys to the Impala. "You did good tonight kid, you're driving. But so help me god, if you scratch my Baby…"

I smile, and climb into the drivers seat.

As we drive, Bobby types things into his smart phone, maniacally. Finally he looks up and says, "I found it." He says. "Maya's grandma lives at 564 Rosewood Ln. It's about a mile and a half from here."

"Ok." I reply. "Mom, would you mind staying at the hospital with Maya, to make sure that Laura doesn't try to kill her again?"

"Of course." Mom replies.

I drop her off, and we head toward the address Bobby provided.

When we arrive, Dad and Uncle Dean pick up the shovel, and we head toward a small garden in at the end of the woman's property.

We scour the grounds, looking for freshly turned dirt. "Over hear" Uncle Dean shouts, and we all go toward his voice.

Dad and Bobby dig up the remains of Laura, until her full body is exposed. I pull out my flask of salt, and shake it over the body. Then I raise my hands over it, like I am warming my hands over a campfire. The body bursts into flame at my beckoning.

"I swear I'll never get used to that," Uncle Dean says.

When we arrive back at the hospital, I slip past the night staff, leaving the others outside. Mom is in the room, talking to Maya. I walk in, and they both fall silent. Maya's face is streaked with tears, and mom is holding her hand, looking down at the bed.

"What happened?" I ask, walking swiftly to Maya's side.

"Maya's mom was attacked. Laura got to her before…" She cuts off, as Maya bursts into fresh tears.

I climb onto the bed with her, and take her into my arms, letting her cry mascara all over my white dress shirt.

"I'll be outside with your father." Mom says, hugging Maya, then walking out the door.

"_I'm sorry this happened_." I whisper into Maya's ear.

"I always knew my mom was messed up… but I d-didn't think she was capable of something like this. I'm glad she is dead."

"Don't say that." I urge. "I think there was really something wrong with her."

"You're probably right. I'm a terrible person." She starts sobbing again.

"No you aren't. You've been through a lot, Maya. Anyone can say things they don't mean."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to feel." She admits. "I'm really alone right now."

"Well I am not going anywhere until I know you are ok." I promise.

Maya's eyes close, and she falls asleep, her head resting peacefully on my chest.

…

It has been a two days since Maya's mother was killed by Laura. I am standing at the airport, holding her hand in both of mine. Her dad has sent her a ticket to California, so she can come live with him, and she is getting ready to board the plane.

"Are you _sure_ you are going to be ok with him?" I ask worriedly.

"I think so. I haven't seen him in years, because mom wouldn't allow it." She says. "But we talk on the phone and skype all the time, and he really loves me."

I smile at the light in her eyes, brought about by the hope of living with a parent who actually cares about more than her looks.

"You are going to be so happy." I promise.

"I'll miss you though." She says seriously. "Keep in touch."

"You have my number, text me any time. And if you ever need my help…"

"Of course." She smiles.

We are both silent for a moment, and suddenly I pull her into me, and kiss her.

She puts her hands on my face, kissing me back enthusiastically.

'_NOW BORDING FLIGHT 603 TO SANTA FE' _a voice comes over the speakers.

"That's me." She pulls away, and grabs the handle to her rolling suitcase. "Goodbye, John. Thank you…"

I watch as she walks away, and feel my stomach drop into my shoes. I really am going to miss that girl.

Mom walks up beside me, and puts her arm around my waist. "Love's hard kid." She sighs.

I smile, and turn back toward my family, toward home.

…

PART THREE:

MACKENZIE

"Come on now you little shit," Dean grins, raising his fists in front of his face. "You can do better than that."

At sixteen years old, John shows unbelievable control of his powers.

He slashes through the air with skill and speed. Flames flash from his fists, but vanish before he makes contact with Dean's stomach.

"OUgh" Dean grunts, but rebounds, swiping low with his left leg. John jumps to avoid being knocked on his ass.

The small victory is short lived, as Dean makes a second pass, this time successful.

John falls, and a miniature pillar of flames blaze where he lands. When it clears, he is nowhere to be seen, and suddenly he is behind Dean.

"Oh shit." Dean says, as John grabs him in a headlock. "Kid! _Kid you're killing me_!" He pants, as he falls to his knees.

John's eyes open wide in alarm, and he releases his Uncle, who promptly tackles him.

"Lesson fourteen, _never_ believe your opponent." Dean laughs, as pins John.

"Lemme up or so help me, I will torch you!" John warns.

"**NO POWERS**" Dean says, alarmed.

I shake my head at the pair.

My eyes wonder to Bobby. He stands by the bunker wall, with one hand covering his right ear, a phone raised to his left. "Yes this is Agent Cole Davies…Yes they are on that investigation…the code clearly states…yes…that's what I thought. I expect your **FULL COOPERATION** with my men from here on out… Yes... Have a pleasant day."

He hangs up, and walks toward where Rae is spreading a blanket for our picnic lunch, and grabs a corner to help out.

Suddenly, Cas appears, just in time to put out a small fire John has started at the bottom of Dean's jeans.

"Come on now, that's fighting dirty." He interrupts the fight, smiling.

"**CAS**!" John grins, and jumps off the ground. He hugs him, and then goes back to sparring with Dean.

Sam walks up behind me, and wraps his arms around my waist. He kisses the back of my neck, and looks out at John, who is now chasing Dean around with fireballs, each of which Castiel subsequently douses with the snap of his finger.

"Pretty soon he won't need us to protect him." Sam shakes his head.

"If it's up to that kid, there won't be any monsters left to need protecting from." I grin.

"I'm all for that." Sam sighs.

"Not me. How _boring_ would that be?" I reply.

"True." He allows, as he runs out into the yard to wrangle his pyromaniac son.

As I watch them, the words I spoke to Sam all those years ago run through my head.

"_We're a team. No matter what comes at us, angels, demons, humans, we face it together. That's how we break the hunters curse. That's how we survive. And we will Sam, just like we always do."_

I look at them all, my _best friend_, my _guardian angel_, my _brother_, my _nephew_, my _son_, and my _husband_.

One thing is clearer to me than anything has ever been.

_My family will survive_.


End file.
